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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098893">Ampersand, 301</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/godeatgod/pseuds/godeatgod'>godeatgod</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Silent Hill (Video Game Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Blood and Violence, Bugs &amp; Insects, Delusions, Dreamscapes, Emetophobia, Explicit Sexual Content, Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infant Death, Infanticide, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nudity, Objectification, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism, ages and details changed from canon, descriptions of genital mutilation, graphic birth and birth subtext</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 04:14:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>135,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/godeatgod/pseuds/godeatgod</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[I have wasted years of my life, Agonizing up at the fires I started when I thought that to be strong you must be flame retardant// And now to dress the wounds cause into question, How authentic they are]</p><p>A new tenant moves into South Ashfield Heights, his presence seems to awaken deep seated sins in the building, and in the other residents themselves.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eileen Galvin/Cynthia Velasquez, Walter Sullivan/Henry Townshend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Imitation Of Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>lets try some long form again babes! slow burn style.<br/>leave comments and stuff if you like it/want more!<br/>&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scuffling, he could hear it in his walls, hands softly scraping the closet with fingernails. The tiniest whispers of childish voices. Asking softly for mommy, for daddy, asking why it was so dark, where is mommy? His headache grew worse and he could feel waves of anxiety, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, where was daddy? Why didn't they come out? Why didn't they come and find him? He was scared. He was so so scared. Crying in the dark room, trembling, begging for parents that wouldn't come. </p><p>A clock ticked on mechanically as time labored forward.</p><p>Oppressive sunlight roused him from sleep, thin blanket tangled around his legs, pillow on the floor, it must be early, not that it mattered much, coming in and laying down at three am would leave him only marginally more tired than normal. He pushed hair out of his face, rubbing the lines in his skin, eyes heavy with sleep and a vaguely uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. </p><p>Dreams, always dreams, he had many bad ones, but their effects didn't ever last longer than an hour on a bad day with him dwelling on it, he suffered his usual sleepless nights without much in the way of dreams most days. He guessed it had something to do with his lack of sleep, only four hours on average, sometimes less, very rarely more. </p><p>Henry yawned, unbuttoning the shirt he'd fallen asleep in, he was somewhat sweaty, the layers not helping his predicament, a sweatshirt and undershirt normally layered specifically to cover his chest, but it was messed up now from his writhing. He needed to do laundry, but a shower came first. Grabbing the blanket and pillow and straightening it lightly on the bed he stretched when he stood, yawning.</p><p>He pulled the only other pair of jeans he owned out of his dresser, black but faded and worn holes in the fabric. A faded t-shirt, also with holes, and a long sleeved button down, less damaged but ugly as far as colors went. Comfortable, warm  and hiding his body enough to go out in. He probably should today, having wanted to take pictures of birds in the park, he didn't take many pictures of animals, and he wanted to get a better handle on it. He needed something nice to do today since he was already up, the hope that after work he would get some decent sleep a distant but hopeful idea.</p><p>Stripping off his clothes in the locked dark bathroom, henry waited for the shower to warm up, avoiding eye contact with the mirror, he felt weird about it in a way he had felt before but didn't want to think about, luckily the water wared quickly. Henry made the mistake of keeping the water on hot, as it was making him even sleepier than before. He considered trying to take his mind off things while in there, a burst of hormones to make him feel at least a little better, but he wouldn't be able to focus. Even as he wasn't upset or dwelling on his dreams, his head felt foggy and strange. Probably just tired, or in some strange funk. </p><p>The routine continued, clean clothes put on, and dirty ones put into the washer, realizing he'd forgotten some other clothes in the dryer the last time he'd done laundry, whenever that had been, something in him deciding this was a problem for future Henry. Whoever that ended up being, maybe Henry later today, maybe Henry a day from now. </p><p>Breakfast, or what could be called breakfast, coffee and a cold piece of pizza he'd had in the fridge would suffice, it seemed more appropriate to eat it cold in the morning. He should go shopping. He wasn't going to go shopping. The radio crackled out soft music as he watched the sun rise higher, the soft fog dissipating. </p><p>That sugar cane,<br/>
That tasted good,<br/>
That's who you are,<br/>
That's what you could,<br/>
Come on, Come on,<br/>
No one can see you cry.</p><p>It was fine he guessed, something easy to listen to, this particular radio station was run by a group of college kids from what he remembered, always played a strange variety of songs, never anything that was super popular, often a lot of older songs too. Henry didn't have any strong opinions on popular music, but he'd missed out on a lot of music in general until two years ago, and he could only buy so many CD’s. he’d decided to clear out most of his books at some point to make room for more of them, not like he read much anyways.</p><p>He cleaned out his cup and wandered to his bedroom again, he shifted through his latest scrapbook, finding spots to put some pictures of animals, given that he could find them anyways. He glanced at the photos on the walls, most of them of places he'd traveled to, a lighthouse,a church, a lake, a really nice bicycle caught in a particularly nice lighting. Pictures he loved quite a lot, grayscaled but he always liked this style a little more, the old sort of aesthetic quality appealed to him for reasons he couldn't explain, maybe it was the black and white television shows he watched as a kid, more than any cartoons.</p><p>He took out the old camera from its place in a small drawer in his desk, checking it over. It was a sort of big camera, somewhat old as he had gotten it secondhand, but he loved it all the same. One of the few deeply personal items to him, he could do without his furniture, most of it had already been in the apartment when he moved in, his pictures and scrapbooks were important of course but he could, in a sense, always make more, he'd had these things taken from him before. But without his camera, there was no way to recover his other belongings. </p><p>He gently laid the trap on the camera around his neck and also grabbed a jacket, feeling chilly air seem to radiate from the shoddy windows. Four layers of clothes seemed like a lot but it ensured he would both be unseen and warm. He left the room, closing every door and turning off every light before making his way downstairs, out of habit picking up the garbage that had been forgotten by the older couple by their door. Of all the floors, this one was the cleanest, but the married couple were both in their mid eighties with several disabilities between them, so typically he or his neighbor in 303 would take their garbage down, when it was forgotten outside their door, he assumed they would mean to do it in the morning but someone else always got to it first. He'd never spoken to them, but still knew they appreciated it as evidenced by the fact that he could hear them talking about it sort of loud, they were both somewhat hard of hearing now. He always let his neigbor take the credit, admittedly against her will. </p><p>The air was crisp and cool, a bit out of season but Henry preferred this weather to anything else, he could feel the air practically icing his lungs over and it was marvelous, the first thing to really wake him up in days, he always liked the early morning, few people out and about, the chill one could feel in their bones, no uncertainty of the darkness like at night but rather the beauty of the sun rising over the city bathing everything in an orange glow filled him with a sense of peace. He took a few pictures of the sunrise over his building, and over the taller buildings in the distance as he walked to the park a handful of blocks over, not a long walk by any means. </p><p>There was an abundance of squirrels gathered in the trees and birds as well, very peaceful, Henry looked over at the little pond and benches, there were a handful of people out but they were all just jogging or biking, nobody to care about what Henry was doing. There were geese waddling around and Henry followed them for a little bit, there were a few goslings in the bunch as well, Henry getting a good couple of pictures of them before they all decided to head off to god knows where. Henry continued to meander aimlessly about, considering taking a break on the swings but not wanting to be seen as strange so he rested on a park bench instead. Taking in the scenery despite him having been here a million times before in these past two years. </p><p>It all strangely reminded him of Silent Hill, a touristy town a good few hours away that he often visited several times. He'd gone again a year and a half ago, but it hadn't felt the same that time, and he'd not been back since. He figured nostalgia had clouded his vision of it, but it wasn't terrible either, the photos he had were near and dear to him, reminding him of memories shaded with rose colored lenses, he'd been there when it was sunny the last time, something he’d never seen before. He always felt at peace there, like he belonged, he'd almost wanted to move there but, there wasn't much in the way of jobs, not to mention he was for some reason apprehensive of that, perhaps figuring the magic would wear off, and he'd hate it if he actually lived in town. </p><p>It occurred to him he was standing in this park, holding his camera and staring at the birds reminiscing on Silent Hill. Why SIlent Hill?  He didn't really care he guessed, as he thought about the place he figured it would be abandoned and torn down eventually. A sad thought in one way, but possibly for the best. There were nasty rumors about Silent Hill. </p><p>He’d spent a long time outside, the sun had made its way halfway across the sky by the time he decided to go home again, more people had come out to the park with their children and he didn't want to hear any of their yelling and playing, kids also tended to try and talk to him and want to play with his camera, and he had a difficult time telling them no. he briefly stopped by the gas station near the apartments, picking up more caffeine for later and a snack for now nothing quite beat shitty gas station sandwiches and chips. He almost didn't walk inside, scared of the cashier’s judgemental gaze that in actuality was half dead when he finally did walk in and look up at the twenty something who might have been high or exhausted or both, they certainly didn't give a shit about him, his chunky camera, and mini powdered doughnuts. They only reacted when he gave them a soft thank you and headed out, looking as though they couldn't quite hear what he had said, but he left too fast for them to ask him to repeat himself. Off to the apartments again, ever as trashy and decently more lively if the shadows and blurs of people walking about in their homes that could be seen through the first floor windows were any indication. He quickly pulled his eyes away from what looked like two people engaged in certain... activities with their curtains half open. </p><p>As Henry made his way back inside he spotted two people off to the side, Frank Sunderland, the older superintendent of the apartments, and Miss Eileen Galvin, his neighbor in room 303. Frank, a very typical older man of about seventy or so who was sort of hunched over due to a bad back he complained about often, was talking to the girl who was probably about the same age as Henry, she was very short and pretty, her bright green eyes catching Henry as he tried to slip upstairs. Frank must have either noticed him or followed Eileen’s gaze as he waved to Henry with a smile. </p><p>“Hey Henry, how are ya, you got a new neighbor movin in soon, 301.“ Frank called to him pleasantly, “excited at all?”</p><p>Henry just shrugged and Frank chortled a little shaking his head as if enamored by him, Miss Galvin looking between them as if expecting something. Uncomfortable Henry simply continued upstairs, Frank continuing to talk to his neighbor. Henry didn't pay attention to their conversation after he left. New neighbor, well that wasn't ideal, he'd enjoyed the lack of loud, crude noise that had come from 301 since the previous tenant, a skeezy man named Mike, had moved out very quickly a month ago. Still, it was likely Henry would have no problem with them, would likely never talk to them. He never talked to anyone else.</p><p>He still had some time left until he had to work, so he figured he could doodle or whatever until he had to go, he had the window open, cigarette lit not that anyone gave a shit about the state of these rooms. The grey walls and carpets that should've been replaced a good few years ago were irreparably damaged and stained from tenants whose names even Frank probably forgot. </p><p>Henry got to work on an old sketch he had in his scrapbook, a creature that seemed to have manifested itself into his head, a lot of his doodles were unspecific, shapes, movement things like that, vaguely abstract. This idea, however, kept badgering the back of his mind so he sat here drawing this creature, trying to get it right, as he wanted to have it realized correctly, he didn't know why it was so important, but it was, he never thought too deeply about it. </p><p>Eyes. That's all he could get right about it in the hour he’d been trying. He got the disgusting eyes on it correct. He could work on it more tomorrow. He had to go to work. </p><p>Work, work was nothing special, a minimum wage job with minimum effort and minimum interaction with others. He spent most of his shifts alone, occasionally a manager would come in and do some things he didn't care to make small talk about but mostly he was given things to stock in the store and then he could go home. Every night was about the same, and he never spoke to coworkers despite knowing all of their names and most of their faces. It was the closest grocery store to him, but interestingly none of his coworkers ever seemed to remember who he was. That was just fine by him.</p><p>As he made his commute to work, the sun nearly down already, caffeinated drink in hand, he sighed a little, trying not to think too much about things, a crushing sort of melancholy in his chest. He felt strange, deeply deeply empty in a way he couldn't explain, he'd been happy earlier, but now his mood had sort of dropped. This wasn't out of the ordinary, he guessed he could just focus on working. That usually took his mind off of things. Boring repetitive labor, he could think about something else while he did it. It would be fine.   </p><p>It sort of worked anyways. One of those nights where for about two hours he didn't speak to or even see another human being, calming the droning of the radio played on shitty speakers that echoed in the store, songs he didn't care about so he ignored them, the hideous fluorescent lights bouncing off the cold hard tiles gave the place an unnatural feeling, henry never liked places like this, time meant even less here than it did to him normally, the place barely felt real. He shook his head as he got down on the floor to put things away near the floor, he was thinking too hard about all of this. He was so dramatic sometimes, even just internally.</p><p>“Excuse me.” Henry jumped a little looking up, startled at first by being spoken to and then again by who was speaking. </p><p>A man stood a foot or so away from his place on the floor, he was slightly hunched over, but when Henry stood to be more level with him and he straightened up himself and it became clear this man was probably about six and a half feet tall, Henry wasn't short at all but this man still felt like he towered over him. He had on a huge faded blue trench coat that reached his knees, incredibly long, wavy blonde hair that was neither tangled nor styled but simply left alone, that hung past his chest. All of this topped off with a gentle smile, half lidded eyes, and scruffy facial hair, he appeared rather polite and by all accounts very pleasant to look at, but he had a strange air about him, one Henry couldn't place. </p><p>“Oh..uhm hello...can i uhm help you with something?…” Henry replied, stammering as though he were being threatened, but the man didn't seem to notice.</p><p>“Sorry to bother you Sir, i was just wondering if you happened to know where tools and things like that might be.”</p><p>“Oh i uhm…” Henry stammered, not expecting his voice to be so soft, “it should be..be a few aisles down...i think aisles five or s-six.”</p><p>“Thank you…” the man nodded, his smile widening slightly. Henry simply nodded back as the man turned and headed in the direction Henry had pointed out to him. Henry stood there for a few moments trying to process why he felt so strange with this perfectly normal interaction. He felt intrigued by this man for some reason. He shook his head and tried to get back to work, but for the rest of his shift he couldn't get the man's face out of his mind. He didn't like the feelings he had because of it. </p><p>A few more hours passed and he was tired, walking home in the dark wasn't easy or fun, it was scary at times, he swore he could see shadows along the walls and the streets. Henry had no reason to be so nervous but here he was. Deeply ingrained in his psyche knowing he should be afraid of the darkness and people in it. Knowing anyone out now would likely have bad intentions for him. Insisting he was in danger, danger he knew deep down wouldn't come, but he’d much rather do this than call an unnecessary taxi or something. He clutched his apartment keys as hard as he could. </p><p>He slipped back inside the apartment complex and upstairs to his apartment, exhausted from the climb up, and he only sighed in relief when he finally closed the door to his room behind him. He was too tired to start laundry again, once again a problem for future Henry,so he just slipped off his jacket and laid it on the chair, it was time for bed. He could eat tomorrow.</p><p>He curled up on his bed and buried himself in his blanket, still in his jeans as he was far too tired to find more comfortable clothing, he dozed off rather quickly, his mind peacefully blank for a short while. </p><p>Henry was lying face down on the musty carpet in a very cramped space, when he pushed himself up he realized he was in his old home, the home of his parents that he'd grown up in. he was in his closet, now devoid of all of his clothes and other belongings, not that he ever had many. He stood up and opened the closet, a thumping pulsating fear against his chest that seemed to come from the room itself, his old bedroom empty of anything that once indicated he'd lived here. Still it felt wrong other than that, he heard crying, sobbing in the other room, and incoherent male yelling, he was shaking because of this, but couldn't help himself and had to know what was happening. He slowly walked through the halls of what had once been his home, trembling as the sound got louder and the home became more decrepit, the walls crumbing, disgusting rot and insects buzzing around. His home resembled something more like an abstract prison, rotting bars on the ceiling, the walls almost seeming padded and covered in a thick slime, every door chained up with multiple padlocks, and there were many more doors than before, like the hallway was repeating itself over and over. He ran, as fast as he could the floors becoming a slick linoleum instead of the dirty old carpet. The more he ran the more desperate he became, the crying grew louder and more pained, the yelling louder too but still incoherent, more angry. The end of the hall displayed a final door, this one had keys in the lock and the chains were scattered on the floor. As if it were inviting him to enter and find out what he was hearing. The crying had evolved into screams with sobs mixed in, it sounded like the person was puking, and the yelling had stopped, the voice hissing what he assumed was insults and anger. He reached forward, hand shaking as he went to unlock the door, terrified. Even when it was unlocked, his hand on the doorknob hyperventilating, he couldn't force himself to open the door. There was a final scream of agony, and then silence.<br/>
A clock chimed somewhere in the distance. </p><p>Henry awoke, head aching, brain fuzzy and mouth thick and dry. When he sat up he realized he was at home, safe, and it was also late, possibly afternoon. He shook himself, trying to think through his dream, a dream that almost felt like a continuation of the dream from the night before but so much worse than crying in the dark, his heart was thundering against his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, staring up at the photo of the church across the room on the wall. Oddly enough it wasn't making him feel better.</p><p>But it was just a dream, nothing more than that. No need to think about it. </p><p>He got up again, his routine beginning as normal, except for the fact that it was three thirty in the afternoon, he'd woken up too late to do anything but shower and finally get around to doing his laundry, well put the washed clothes in the dryer, and the dried clothes on his couch. No time to do anything enjoyable, just eat, well there was a can of pork and beans in the cupboard, and drink the small bottle of chocolate milk in the fridge. Today was turning out rather pathetic.fine, whatever, he'd had days like this. It was still disappointing. </p><p>Evening came, and though he'd frankly wasted the day he didn't have a choice, he decided to go out and get some shitty fast food and yet more caffine before work, still somewhat depressed at having been so stupid to have slept in so late, effectively ruining whatever chance he had of actually relaxing. Oh well, he should be used to this for now, he thought as he pulled on the uniform and a jacket on again.</p><p>“Oh hey there Henry,” Frank greeted him, as he left the room, “was just showing your new neighbor around.” he gestured to the man next to him, not that he needed to for two reasons. </p><p>“Hello again, i believe we met last night?” the man who’d talked to him at work the night before stood in front of him, just weirdly off putting as he had been the first time. Wearing the same clothes, hair still hanging down framing his face, it was a bit brighter in here and Henry could see his eyes, Henry didn't make eye contact but they were a very sparkling green, brown around the rim of his iris’. Somehow he seemed even taller as he was bigger than Frank. The strange sort of aura about him permeated the hallway but this was clearly just something Henry was possibly imagining or projecting onto him, he wasn't sure. </p><p>“I'm Walter Sulivan,” the man, Walter, extended his hand to Henry to take it, somehow Henry could tell that they were doing this only to oblige the other man with them.</p><p>“Uh Henry...Henry Townshend, it's nice to meet you…”</p><p>“Likewise.”  </p><p>“You off to work again?” Frank asked and shook his head when Henry nodded, “aren't you always, don't gotta worry about Henry being loud or anything, hell even i barely see him,the kid could live a whole double life and nobody would know.”</p><p>“Oh well that's alright.” Walter nodded politely, said smoothly like it was natural to him but the actual words didn't make as much sense. Henry couldn't read him at all. </p><p>“I think you guys’ll get along fine. Well Henry if you gotta get going i'll see you around ok?” Frank waved and turned to head to the other apartment, “don't work too hard.” </p><p>“Oh well..yeah uh..” Henry just nodded awkwardly back, glancing to Walter. Unable to stop staring at him, he had no idea if Walter could tell or not. </p><p>“See you around Henry.” Walter’s smile remained as he waved and turned walking towards 301, slow and deliberate with his footsteps. Henry had simply nodded, and made sure that he locked his door, still so baffled by what had happened for a reason he still couldn't place. </p><p>Was he really that devoid of human connection that two mundane instances with coincidentally the same man made him feel weird? He wasn't sure, but his gut told him something was strange about his man, maybe it was his eyes or the perpetual smile, maybe it was the gentleness to his voice that didn't quite fit with the appearance of the man, but there had to be something, he wasn't crazy right? </p><p>That was stupid, he shook himself. It was fine, there was nothing any more strange about Walter than anyone else who lived here, hell he seemed very polite and mild mannered, much better than the other people. There was nothing wrong with him. </p><p>Still Henry gripped his apartment key hard in his pockets until he'd left the building.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Normal Like You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[I heard those stupid people talk about you again//I just have to laugh to keep from hurting bad//Their simple minds just cannot seem to understand//You are neurotic and depressed//It doesn't mean that you're sad]</p><p>Things have started to get a little strange, as Henry attempts to explain them to himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>on a roll with this chapter i got really excited about it lmao<br/>i love comments!! thank you to everyone who did on the last chapter!! it means alot! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The creature's hands were giving him trouble, he'd gotten the eyes, and the strange visions of it's abstract body had begun to take shape as he scribbled in the notebook over and over, he'd never had this many scrapped drawings before. He wasn't exactly an artist per say but he needed to get it right, it was driving him nuts. Having interrupted getting halfway through his laundry before needing to stop to try and work on this. He wasn't perturbed by his semi obsessive need to do this, this was normal for him at least. But he needed this drawing fleshed out correctly. </p><p>He could hear rustling outside his door, but he didn't look, it didn't matter, the door was locked anyways. He heard voices. He ignored them. He heard a laugh, now that, that was interesting, but Henry didn't need to bother with it. More voices. He realized he was distracted by the voices and insatiably curious. He was so diatractable today, which wasn't a good sign but at least he wasn't in a depressive slog. Anything was better than all that. Still he tried to focus on what he was doing, but the chattering voices were enticing him, no he wouldn't obliged them, he would mind his own business.</p><p>Then again, he was curious, who would stand outside of his door and talk, he had no reason to care but it couldn't hurt to listen in, they'd never know. </p><p>He stood and walked closer to the door hearing the voices more clearly, one of them he recognized immediately as Eileen, and the other he eventually figured out was Walter, the two of them talking mere feet away from his home. A sort of excitement at seeing Walter again, he was still so intrigued by him despite himself, a morbid curiosity, he wanted to know how he worked as he'd never seen someone so hard to read and yet so passive, and overly polite. He wanted to see the smile he always wore cracked into any other expression, one he understood. </p><p>Henry stared out the peephole at the two of them, if Walter was tall compared to him, he was massive next to Eileen, who might've been five foot two or three. His hands looked big enough to easily grab her and throw her, though the way he carried himself gave Henry the clear idea that he would never think to do so. He held his hands in front of him, fingers interlaced, his shoulders hunched over slightly so he looked shorter, though not significantly, the pleasant smile still etched into his face. He had missed the first part of their conversation but almost luckily, he caught them starting another one. </p><p>“Do you know anything about the man who lives here?” Walter asked softly, head tilted, curious as he gestured to 302's door. </p><p>“No, I can't say that I do. His name’s Henry and...he's lived here for like two years. But that's all I can say, he's pretty reclusive. Hell I've never heard him speak, i know he's gotta talk sometimes, Mr. Sunderland says he can but never says anything in front of me.”</p><p>“Hm...interesting.” Walter nodded, sounding like it genuinely was interesting to him, “He spoke to me. Perhaps out of obligation though. Who knows, perhaps he likes you.”</p><p>“That’d be weird, kinda creepy.” EIleen laughed a little, which sort of stung for reasons Henry wasn't sure of. </p><p>“Oh...i'm sorry i didn't mean..” Walter stammered, Henry could see him flush a little, wringing his hands.</p><p>“Oh no don't be.” Eileen shook her head, “that's a bit harsh of me i guess,  i suppose it's not creepy per say, just a little strange, he doesn't seem like he would. Wouldn't hate the idea myself though, he's kinda cute from what I've seen of him.” </p><p>“Oh yeah,” Walter’s smile returned, relieved “why don't you think he would though? Just...curious.”</p><p>“Well besides the fact that we've never talked, he just seems kinda detached. I dunno, I just get the idea he hates people. Nobody knows anything about the guy. He just appeared two years ago and then tried to blend in like he'd always been here if..that makes any sense.” she laughed again.</p><p>“No, i think...I think I understand.”  Walter said nodding, “a..strange guy then?”</p><p>“Yeah for sure, kind of a weirdo. But that's fine he's never hurt or bothered anybody, there's plenty of people here you should really avoid, if you can find anything at all out about Henry you should probably write it down in case he ever goes missing or something.” she chuckled a little despite the darkness of the statement.</p><p>“You have a point.” Walter didn't seem to get that it was a joke, almost as if taking it to heart. </p><p>“You're kinda funny yourself, but honestly I think everyone here is, and you're a lot nicer than the last guy that lived in 301.”</p><p>“Oh really?”</p><p>“Yeah, his name was Mike, he was a complete creep, trying to grab people, writing weird love letters, trying to take pictures up skirts, the whole ordeal.” Eileen shook her head with pure disgust in her expression. “Hey if you need someone to deep clean that room I'll help you, pretty sure that guy spent more time with his hand down his pants than doing literally anything else. Between the two of us, Frank doesn't put a lot of effort into stuff like cleaning.“</p><p>“Oh it's not so bad.” Walter shook his head, “i was planning...on cleaning things up soon actually making it cozy, but uhm if you ever want to...uhm come over some time, dinner or something i wouldn't mind.” Walter seemed to go red again, not making eye contact.</p><p>“Aw like a date?”</p><p>“Oh-oh no no not...necessarily just as...as friends...uhm but that's ok if you don't want to i…” </p><p>“I'm joking, Walter, of course as friends.”</p><p>“Oh,” Walter breathed a sigh of relief. “Right of course.. Sorry about that, I'm...tired.”</p><p>“You're fine.” Eileen seemed to be smiling in amusement. “Anyways I can show you around town sometime too, maybe this weekend since you're new, where did you say you were from?”</p><p>“SIlent Hill.” Walter nodded, a strange reverence to his tone that disappeared when he spoke again. “I'd like that, it’d be really fun.”</p><p>“Of course, Silent Hill is pretty cool. Oh,” Eileen shook her head suddenly, ''I'm sorry i'll have to talk later, i gotta get going, got caught up in all of this but i'll see you later ok?”</p><p>“Oh that's alright. I'd like to talk more when you have time, i'll be around.” Walter smiled wider, hands clasped together tightly in excitement. Eileen smiled and waved to him with a goodbye that he reciprocated. After a moment when she must have disappeared, Walter broke his gaze from where she had been standing, an oddly wistful look in his eyes, to stare up at Henry’s door, hands behind his back. Walter stared at the peephole or the number on the door, Henry couldn't be sure, and though he knew the hole only went one way, he couldn't help the feeling that Walter was staring straight at him, that he knew Henry had been eavesdropping. He then turned and walked back towards his own room, calmly. Deliberately. </p><p>Henry wasn't sure what to make of all of that, part of him had alarm bells ringing in his head on EIleen’s behalf, another part felt guilty for thinking that as Walter just seemed awkward, and yet another part of him was...jealous?  No that couldn't be it. Maybe he just felt bad that they thought of him as such a weirdo, except why would they think any differently, arguably he was. </p><p>No those feelings were all stupid and unfounded. He'd get over all of this soon enough. Perhaps he was just so bored that he latched onto anything ‘new’ as tightly as possible for the promise of a unique but nonthreatening stimulus. </p><p>So much of this was so fascinating to him on a level he couldn't quite put his finger on, that and he had these strange feelings of what could almost be rejection except that didn't make any sense. Maybe it was Silent Hill, he’d never actually heard of anyone having lived there, and moved somewhere else, but it was just another town. There were alot of towns around the area like Brahms, Pleasant River or, Shepherds Glen, smaller little residences less than an hour away from either Silent Hill or Ashfield. All in all there was nothing spectacular about the interaction, other than the fact that they actually spoke about Henry. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Why would Walter care? Frank had already told him Henry was quiet and wouldn't bother him. From the sound of it, Eileen already took a liking to him, so it's not like he needed the companionship. He sure hoped Walter wouldn't be one of those people obsessed with snooping on their neighbors, like some of the other people who insisted on pacing the halls and trying to peek in windows. One of the few downsides to this place that Henry cared enough about to actively dislike. </p><p>Why had Walter taken to staring at his door? He couldn't be certain he had been looking into his peephole, but he had to wonder why, he’d never be able to see into the room, right? Henry became paranoid that the peephole wasn't one way suddenly before he forced himself to take a deep breath and realize that he was being ridiculous, you couldn't see through the holes on the outside. It just wasn't possible. </p><p>This obsessive mindset was getting on his nerves, so he tried to finish his laundry. Fold it all, put it away, hell even grab some other dirty clothes and put them in the now empty laundry basket. Even when he finally did that much, the conversation was still on repeat in his head. He tried to sit and continue his drawing but he couldn't get Walter's face out of his mind. That and Eileen's voice calling him weird and creepy, even if she'd taken it back. This was getting frustrating. </p><p>Maybe he should get some alcohol. That would, well it wouldn't clear his head but it would make it fuzzy enough that he wouldn't be obsessing over all this. It was starting to tire him out, and he'd had another nightmare the night before. The details of this one was less clear now that it had been several hours. But he knew it was wearing on his psyche. </p><p>He stood up and grabbed some money from the small pile on the table that he'd left there while doing laundry. He got paid in a couple of days, thank god. Maybe he should buy real groceries for once, instead of just cigarettes, alcohol, snacks, and rice. He probably wouldn't. </p><p>He slipped outside to the sky being relatively dark as it had rained earlier and the cloud had lingered like a bad mood or petty grudge. He didn't mind the rain or clouds themselves, just that it was darker than he'd prefer. The liquor store was very close on the other side of the apartments away from the gas station, broken glass and cigarette butts littered the ground and it had this sad look about it, but Henry was used to the decrepit sort of display. He approached the liquor store and saw a man hanging out by the store but not going in, staying far enough away to not be seen by the people working there. He got a more clear look at him the closer he got. </p><p>The man was about Henry's height, very thin with mostly shaved ginger hair, and a very nervous demeanor, picking at his skin, his  bloodshot, heavy eyes anxiously darting around as if desperate for sleep. His bright green t-shirt with some sort of demon on it was clean but had some old bleach stains, his tight jeans very much the same. Henry couldn't place the age on this man, but based on the old marks in his arms he could tell some other things about him.</p><p>"H-hey are you-you g-going in th-there?" The man asked him as he passed by, Henry somewhat startled, nodded.</p><p>"C-can y-you buy m-me somethin t-to dr-drink man. I..i g-got money i-i just d-don't ha-have any, I-ID is a-all. Pr-promise i'm twenty..twenty s-six." He stammered out, he didn't seem nervous talking to him, just nervous in general and his stuttering seemed to be a speech impediment. Henry paused for a moment looking at him and trying to gauge his answer but eventually he just nodded figuring hey, he was probably telling the truth and even if he wasn't and he was underage, oh well, it wasn't like anyone would find out Henry had enabled him. Henry knew he'd probably find someone else to buy it for him anyways and there was no use in making him wait out in the cold.  </p><p>"Ah th-thanks m-man. H-here, i d-don't really m-mind anything y-you can-can get with this m-much, surprise m-me.” he smiled and Henry if he hadn't been convinced before, certainly was now, he was somewhat charming.  He entered the store and wandered through the aisles of alcohol, trying to think of something that would work out, buying himself some wine, and the man some cheap vodka, hoping that would be good enough. It wouldn't take too much for him to get drunk, and he didn't like being too loose while inebriated, if he thought he would be in complete control of himself while more drunk than that he probably would be more often. The radio was on inside the store, a song Henry actually sort of knew, him repeating the melody in his head as he paid the man at the counter.</p><p>Henry left the store and walked over to the man who was standing off to the side putting out his cigarette on a trashcan as Henry approached, he handed him the bottle and the man seemed ecstatic.</p><p>"Th-thanks, y-your the b-best." He smiled, Something a little deranged perhaps but he appeared happy. "Y-you can-can keep wh-whatever ch-ch-change th-there is." </p><p>"Oh...uhm...thanks." </p><p>"Hey w-would y-you wait-wait for m-my b-bus with m-me? You d-don't have t-to but-but it's d-dark and..and if i s-see something i wanna kn-know if it's its-it's real." </p><p>"...yeah uh...sure i'm..not busy."</p><p>“Aw-awesome dude, it-it's over h-here,” the man gestured to the bus stop about ten feet away and Henry followed him, looking around but it seemed as though nobody would bother them or notice the alcohol. </p><p>“I'm-i'm Jasper by-by the way, i d-don't live around h-here, other-other side of t-t-town. I know i-i probably s-sound cr-crazy but i p-promise i'm-i'm n-n-not cr-crazy.” Jasper rambled on and Henry just listened to him, the poor guy seemed like he might be lonely and mentally unwell, but otherwise nice enough. “I s-see all k-kinds of th-things man, around h-here. And in-in Silent H-hill too, d-demons s-sometimes, m-monsters. I'm..i'm looking f-for the d-devil man. You ever-ever seen him? N-no i b-bet not. But-but i know i've s-seen him.” Jasper fidgeted with his keys that were attached to his belt loops. Quiet for a moment before beginning to talk again. </p><p>"I kn-know i'm n-not cr-crazy. Its-it's probably th-the dope th-that m-m-makes people th-think i am. B-but i'm-i'm doing b-better now. I d-don't do th-that stuff anymore, And-and i st-still see, st-strange stu-stuff all the t-t-time, even-even w-without it. B-but i d-don't want t-to do th-that st-stuff anymore…" he repeated himself a bit shaking his head. </p><p>"Well...that's good…and i believe you." Henry nodded and Jasper continued fiddling with his keys. Henry almost felt bad for indulging him in the alcohol but, he guessed that wasn't his business. He did at least believe him in regards to him seeing strange things, Henry wasn't sure if he exactly believed in the supernatural, but he believed other people knew what they had seen, knowing very well what it felt like not to be taken seriously. </p><p>"Yeah? Th-thanks man. Hey ill-ill t-tell ya someth-thing for fr-free man, th-those apartments?" Jasper pointed to South Ashfield Heights, "th-they're s-super haunted, c-cursed even. L-lots of-of people h-have died around th-there, even th-the super's f-family all d-died in th-there. B-basically the-the whole building is c-c-cursed." </p><p>“...how do you know?” Henry tilted his head looking at him, “have you...been in there before?” </p><p>“I've-i've never b-been ins-inside but i have read a lot of-of b-b-books an articles about th-the area. Lots of d-deaths, n-not just th-the building b-but the wh-whole town, and other-other towns here too. B-but that b-building is the w-worst pl-place in S-south Ashfield.” he stated plainly, and Henry couldn't help but want to push for more information. </p><p>“What kind of...things happened?”</p><p>“L-lots of mur-murder, s-sex crimes, unexplainable ev-event-events.” Jasper shook his head, “but-but you sh-shouldnt w-worry ab-about it, i m-mean th-theres no r-reason for someone as-as young as y-you are to w-worry about it if-if y-you're careful. Wh-why are y-you so curious?” </p><p>“Well i uhm...I just live there, is all.” Henry had no idea what he meant about him being young, he was twenty three, but he was insatiably curious. </p><p>“You...l-live th-there? Oh man.” Jasper furrowed his brow, something like a look of pity etched onto his face. </p><p>“Y-you should real-really g-get out of-of here as s-soon as y-you can man. Y-you're in d-danger.” </p><p>“Danger?...how, how am i in danger?” Henry asked, strange feelings popping up at Jasper’s warning, Jasper suddenly stiffened. </p><p>"Henry. Henry Towshend." Jasper muttered staring directly at him, Henry felt his stomach turn. He never told him his name, least of all his last name. It didn't help that he couldn't see Jasper's eyes in the shadows or that his stuttering seemed to have vanished, he was completely calm, no longer stammering or fidgeting. He pointed at Henry who took a step back.</p><p>"The abyss is waiting, watch out." His voice came out much smoother and softer than normally, Henry almost asked what he meant but Jasper simply began muttering words to himself, his speech impediment coming back to him as though he were briefly possesed. </p><p>"...w-woods th-th-they were out in-in the w-woods….they n-n-need h-help…" Jasper muttered, turning away from him, biting his fingernails. </p><p>"Jasper?"</p><p>"Wh-what?" Jasper looked over to him as if  just realizing he was there again.</p><p>"Are...are you alright?" </p><p>"Y-yeah, i'm fi-fine wh-why?" </p><p>"You were..talking about something..the woods? An...abyss?' </p><p>"I...i don't know-know wh-what you m-m-mean?" Jasper looked genuinely confused. </p><p>"I…" Henry paused and shook his head wondering if he'd somehow imagined what Jasper had said, or perhaps he had forgotten the words as they left his mouth, either way. "Uhm...i guess...i guess it's nothing…" </p><p>“St-strange th-things huh?” Jasper said solemnly and Henry just nodded unsure of what to say, “you-you’ll be s-seein a lot of-of st-strange th-things soon H-Henry, i c-can just f-feel it, c-can't you?”</p><p>“I….uhm...i guess so…” Henry bypassed his discomfort and looked him in the eye, but Jasper’s expression was that of someone who knew something he wasn't going to tell anyone. </p><p>“Th-thanks for h-helpin me out man.”</p><p>“Yeah...of course.”</p><p>The bus pulled up to the stop and Jasper waved back to him before getting on, Henry watched the bus close its doors and slowly drive away making it's wide turns on the darkening street as crickets chirped from around Henry’s feet. Henry wasn't sure what had just happened but it'd been half an hour he'd probably think about for days. He was almost apprehensive about going home but he had nowhere else to go. Mulling over what the other man had said.</p><p>He turned and walked to the apartments every word Jasper said on repeat in his mind, the man had sounded very much as though he were mentally ill, but Henry believed everything he had said. There was no reason not to. Even still, he had no idea what to think of his insistence that he was in danger, or of the fact that he knew his name. How could he have known his name? Henry tried to dig for any reason he'd know his first and last name, and why had he stopped his characteristic stuttering and why he'd seemed almost possessed for a minute. Maybe, maybe he'd gone into his grocery store? Well he could have, he guessed but Henry had never seen him before, and the nametag only had his first name on it. Perhaps he'd been inside South Ashfield Heights and seen his name on the mailbox? Well sure but that only had his last name. Perhaps both had happened and Henry hadn't noticed him? Once again possibly, but unlikely and there was no way for either explanation to account for the fact that he’d never seen him before to connect the names to one another or to the person he'd just talked to outside of the liquor store. </p><p>He had to wonder what he meant by strange things, or what kind of history his apartment building had. Henry wondered how much of it was true, part of him wanting details. The devil, the man had spoken of the devil and though Henry was no longer religious, part of him still held a slight neurosis surrounding the concept of hell and the devil, of punishment and sin, of damnation and the narrow path of righteousness that Henry had fallen so far off of in only two years there was no longer access to salvation for him. So the man's insistence of Henry being in danger and this concept coincided in his mind and scared him. </p><p>Still he felt oddly at peace when he walked inside as if entering the double doors washed his mind of all concern about what Jasper had said. He was home, and the bottle of wine in his hand was alluring to him now especially after the couple days he’d had. He made his way to his floor, only hearing the soft sounds of what he assumed was Eileen’s television through the door, she always listened to it a little too loud but he never minded, he almost liked it as if he wanted to learn more about her through her choice in television shows and movies, most of which he didn't actually know the names of. Though he did find some of the jokes in them kind of funny, as though he were bonding with her simply by overhearing her tv. God, maybe he was creepy. </p><p>Henry didn't bother getting a glass, it was his bottle of wine anyways and he didn't feel like doing any dishes. He didn't care how it tasted really, just something easy to keep drinking. He hadn't in a while as he'd been focused on just paying bills and getting the barest form of food over the past two weeks. Only realizing he'd gotten lucky and hadn't spent as much as he'd thought tonight. The tv channels were nothing of interest, just some droning noise of a stupid sitcom he'd seen most of before, but it was comforting. He didn't need anything or anyone else, this was perfectly fine.</p><p>He finished his bottle and set it down on the floor, lightly dozing off and on for about an hour until he was gone. </p><p>There was a long dark tunnel ahead of him, he realized he was on his stomach and couldn't stand or sit up as the tunnel was too small, all of it strangely damp and warm. Trying to ignore his slight claustrophobia and disgust at his surroundings he crawled forward, there was a circular light ahead of him inviting him forward, water sloshing into his face and soaking his clothes. As he got close the light got brighter and when he got to the end of it his head became fuzzy and he could no longer remember where he was. He sat up eventually his head spinning, soaked to the skin, his body ached and his head was pounding. He was in a dark empty school hallway, and after a while he recognized it as his elementary school. The drawings on the wall familiar in a sense though when he stood up and walked over to them they distorted, into abstract shapes and things that were supremely violent, odd shaped dogs eating stick figure children who were crying, a church burning to the ground the people near it on fire, a ferris wheel with someone falling off of it, a group of people surrounding one little girl and seeming to yell at her throwing bricks and other heavy objects, someone hanging themselves, another with someone holding a sharp object and stabbing themselves and crying. He couldn't help but stare at each of these drawings, he recognized every one of them despite their childish nature. A siren went off. It grew louder and louder and Henry began to panic suddenly getting the impression that he was being chased, he took off in the other direction, sprinting down the hallway and sliding a little on the linoleum floor and he heard loud slamming of doors behind him. He bolted into the nearest classroom and shoved a few desks in front of the door, though several of the other desks were decaying. Waiting with baited breath until the sirens died down. He looked around at the desks mostly normal except one of them, the one in the very back on the left covered in barbed wire, wrapped around it like a shield or barrier. He walked over to it, there was blood on the seat and words carved deep into the wooden desk. Insults, derogatory terms, pure vitriol and malice that he could feel eminanting from the desk itself. There was a razor blade on the desk. Something out of place, that still felt like it belonged here, a name he recognized intimately but didn't want to acknowledge on a little card on the desk. He couldn't stop looking at it. There was banging on the door and he panicked as his barricade was suddenly slammed down, but he didn't turn to look at whenever was chasing him, bolting into the nearest closet in the room and pressing his body against the door once inside, choking back his panic and remaining quiet. He heard a loud slamming noise. Heavy footsteps. More slamming. Crunching noises and creaking. Five minutes passed, ten minutes maybe, he didn't know. Eventually the presence that he could feel in his bones was gone now and he slowly peeked out of the door, looking around and seeing nothing. Except for the fact that the door had been ripped off the hinges and thrown across the room every desk turned over, and the desk with the name he had known, had been ripped into pieces, more blood all over the floor where it had been. He shakily left the closet and glanced around for more danger but there was nothing. He shook as he made his way to the shattered door, and there was a trail of blood going off in one direction, so he made his way down to the other direction, only to hear the sirens again, he ran. His lungs ached for air before he stopped now outside on the playground, the sirens louder and pounding against his head so hard he fell to his knees and held it in his hands, unable to tell what was happening around him any longer, it began to rain. </p><p>Loud footsteps walked closer, and stopped right behind him. </p><p>He awoke lying on his back on the hardwood flooring. The ceiling looked both familiar and incorrect, he sat up and looked around realizing, he was no longer in his room, he was still in South Ashfield Heights, he knew that much, and the room was water damaged and smelled lightly of mold. He realized he was lightly panicking, and closed his eyes to try and calm down. He was ok, he didn't have any time to think about that right now, he didn't know where he was. He opened his eyes. </p><p>He got to his feet and looked around more but there was nothing to see, an empty apartment room, dirty but otherwise there was nothing strange about it. He realized he might get in trouble if he was in here any longer.</p><p>He left the room and the door said 101, he had woken up in room 101. How? Why? He felt kind of sick, he wasn't sure if it was a hangover or whatever had happened to bring him here. He needed an explanation, did he sleepwalk? He never had before, and how would he have opened the door? Would nobody have heard or seen him or tried to stop him? He felt like he was losing his grip on reality, things that should be up were down, he who should be invisible was being addressed and warned of danger, his mind brought up Jasper talking about the devil once again. </p><p>No, that was dramatic. Henry took several deep breaths with his eyes closed, he was having a weird couple of days and wasn't taking it well, that was all. He would go back to his room, have some coffee and try to relax and find a solution to his issue. It would be ok. He would be ok. </p><p>Henry made his way to the third floor, it was morning now, he wondered what time it was. Thank god he didn't have to work. He opened the door to the section of the building with the third floor rooms only to see Walter outside of his room, pacing down the hallway with his hands behind his back, Henry was uncertain of if he wanted to talk to him but he likely wouldn't have a choice it seemed as he was very close to his room. He sighed and put his hands in his pockets and headed forward, Walter noticing him almost immediately. </p><p>"Henry." Walter nodded to him, as he stopped pacing the hallway for a moment to acknowledge him. This was the first time Henry had ever seen him without his coat, instead he was wearing an old grey sweater and long brown pants inexplicably rolled up at the bottom, his shoulders still hunched slightly, his hands behind his back continuing his general trend of trying to look non threatening. Except he was somewhat stocky with quite wide shoulders, something that couldn't be seen with his huge coat.</p><p>“Hello.” </p><p>“You look tired.” Walter stated, his eyes lingering on Henry’s face, “you alright?”</p><p>“Fine.” Henry just shrugged and Walter nodded, Henry noticing he'd shaved evidently, but also appeared weary himself. </p><p>“This place is nice isn't it?” he asked, as if trying to make small talk that Henry couldn't reciprocate. Walter never took his eyes off of Henry, and he felt a deep discomfort in his stomach, he hated people looking at him, and Walter didn't seem to know how to do anything else. Henry just made a nondescript noise and Walter took this as an answer with what appeared to be no offence. He genuinely couldn't tell, his eyes that Henry only briefly glanced at, told him nothing, except that he knew something. </p><p>“Has anything, odd been happening Henry?” he asked after a moment, he was staring directly at his eyes.</p><p>“...no.” Henry lied, weirdly suspicious of him, trying to gauge what he was getting at, he was looking off to his hair pretending he was looking at his face.<br/>
.<br/>
“Well, If you notice anything, strange going on, I think you should tell me.” Walter tilted his head, incredulous almost, as if he didn't believe him. </p><p>“Why is that…” Henry looked at him and though Walter was as impassive as ever, it was clear to Henry that he was trying to find an explanation. </p><p>“I just think I might be able to help you out. Offer advice and all of that, I would, hate for something bad to happen.” Walter said, clearly lying through his teeth, or at least omitting quite a lot. Henry just nodded back. Silence for a solid sixty seconds, until a door behind him opened and Henry turned around to see Eileen exiting her apartment, her gaze braightning when she saw Walter. </p><p>"Hey Walter, did you wanna head out and get something to eat? There's a couple of nice places around the area, i can drive too.'' Eileen smiled and then glanced at Henry as if she'd just noticed him and wasn't sure what to say. </p><p>“Oh...hello Henry.” Eileen tried to make eye contact, Henry avoided it and there seemed to be an unspoken expectation of something between them, but perhaps her words from earlier or Walter’s barely blinking gaze that seemed to passively scrutinize them, made his voice die in his throat. He couldn't seem to speak to her and just nodded in acknowledgment. She looked disappointed, or possibly creeped out, he felt shame bubble up in his chest. </p><p>“I'd love to come with you if you'll have me.” Walter interrupted the strained silence, and Eileen looked over to him, her smile returning. </p><p>“Great, i have a few places picked out just so we're sure to find something you'll like,” she nodded, “c'mon and we can beat the lunch rush.” she gestured for him to follow and he did so, glancing at Henry who'd been properly shoved out of a conversation he wasn't involved in or invited to.</p><p>“Uhm...i'll see you around Henry.” Eileen tried again awkwardly and Henry simply and painfully waved goodbye, the confusion and discomfort that permeated her face had the effect of adding twenty pounds of depressive pressure to his chest. She rounded the corner and he sighed. </p><p>He got paid in a few days, he thought as he entered his apartment again, until then, he'd just have to deal with all of this sober. Bad luck he thought bitterly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Cubicles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[So I'll spend my time with strangers/A condition, and it's terminal/In this water-cooler romance/And its coming to a close//Sometimes I think I'll die alone/Live and breathe and die alone/I think I'd love to die alone]</p>
<p>Walter is becoming stranger and Henry has some run ins with people he'd rather not see</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>shhhh quick chapter, building more things up yknow very fun<br/>in love with all your comments theyre really keeping me going &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wouldn't stop staring into the goddamn peephole. It was inducing some rather serious paranoia and Henry couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd checked the hole, when Walter was finally not pacing around the damn hallway, and there was nothing to see. Maybe he was just staring at the door, maybe he had some compulsion to do so and bad luck would have him do it while Henry had taken to looking out to see, but it didn't matter, why was he doing it, why couldn't he stop, why wouldn he leave him alone?</p>
<p>It wasn't like he needed the companionship, Henry had seen him and Eileen coming back from hanging out together, Henry repressing a whatever feelings that gave him (his mind so wanted to say jealousy, but he had no reason to be jealous and he wasn't anyways so he ignored and shoved it down), Walter had this friend, why did he need to try and stare at Henry. </p>
<p>It'd been a couple of days, nothing was going right or getting any better. He hadn't had dreams the past two nights, thank god, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy when he went to bed, scared he may wake up again somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. He sat on his chair and sort of moped about all day, watching television blandly, not caring about what was on, it wasn't making him feel any better. </p>
<p>He tried to stare at his sketchbook to find any damn thing to do, the creature he'd been drawing had taken shape and it truly was a monster. A huge pulsating monster, flesh hanging off of it, hundreds of lacerations on it's disgusting lumpy body, it appeared somewhat feminine in shape but also had a face more masculine in appearance. Six bulging eyes along it's head that all looked forward. He'd drawn it slouching, it's long arms reaching the floor, with long spindly fingers, it had teeth grinning on it's throat looking like a mouth. Slimily black tar covered its body and dripped onto the ground and Henry in his mind's eye knew exactly how the thing would move, smell, and sound. </p>
<p>He hadn't had a dream with this creature in it. He’d never seen anything like it before, never even drawn something like it. He felt a deep sense of dread when he looked at it, but it was finished. He tried not to look at it too much, when he opened the pages to go to a different part of his scrapbook he tried to avoid looking too deeply at it, it reminded him of an old story book of scary stories he'd read as a child with horrid illustrations that, though the stories themselves were nothing too frightening looking back, were downright disturbing. He didn't know if he’d done it in a similar style on purpose but nevertheless it was oddly close. </p>
<p>The drawing was near where he’d taped the receipt he’d gotten from the Liquor store, and there were some other scribbles, one, strangely, that almost looked like Walter. He'd drawn it rather absently and then promptly felt embarrassed but didn't scribble it out like he had with others, was drawn well unfortunately, and he couldn't bare to destroy it. </p>
<p>But that was about all that had gone down since he'd woken up in that apartment, he still couldn't figure any goddamn reason it had happened. He didn't sleepwalk he never had, he'd remember walking down there, he'd remember someone taking him there and he couldn't figure out any other explanation. He still went back to it to obsess over it again and again it was agonizing, and he still sort of felt insane. How had this happened and why and did Jasper's eerie warning have anything to do with it? It was a plague on his thoughts and he couldn't stop going back to it when his mind was empty. How could he not? Henry had many things that were unexplainable and horrible happen to him but this was the first major thing like this that had happened in two years. Sure there had been a few little things but nothing like this. </p>
<p>It all gave him a deep feeling of unease and terror, he didn't like being confused, he didn't like the uncertainty, that's exactly why he didn't interact with other people when he could help it. They confused him, they scared him, and it was always a gamble. So to have something like this out of his control gave him the overwhelming feeling of spiraling. </p>
<p>He took a deep breath as he sat on the chair, he didn't want to dwell on it, like other traumatic, unexplainable things he decided it would be best to try and ignore it. Deal with it as best as he could by just letting it fade away in the background of his life. Let the monotony dull the experience as much as he could. </p>
<p>Well he couldn't sit in here and just mope about, he needed some groceries and though it was still day it was getting a bit late and he knew that it was about the time that the store would be less busy but not too dead that the workers would notice him, therefore he hopefully wouldn't be bothered. </p>
<p>He stood, took his wallet and a coat, and part of him wondered if he should get some alcohol today too. It wouldn't be a bad idea, maybe he could make a nice meal or something, have a few drinks with it, perhaps a movie too. As he strolled down the hallway, not seeing anyone thankfully, he tried to mentally put together something good to eat and though he was good enough at cooking generally, he wasn't good at planning meals and getting the right ingredients. He ate a lot of garbage in all honesty, the nearest place had pizza and occasionally he'd buy some and eat that for a few days, sometimes he’d buy things from the grocery store, and mostly from the gas station, he'd gotten a couple of takeout menus but never actually called the place, he'd wanted to, but he hated using the phone, nobody could ever hear him and he couldn't ever seem to speak up. </p>
<p>He was still lost in his thoughts about soup and bread and a nice glass of wine and maybe a movie he'd seen before but still enjoyed, but before he could think too deeply about it he heard a loud yell from the first floor, he didn't want to really get into it but he heard another yell a moment later and made his way downstairs and saw in two people in the lobby. Two men stood in the doorway, Walter and one of the other tenants Richard Braintree, a decently short older man wearing a button down and slacks with a huge belt containing the holster for his revolver he always carried, Henry doubted he had a license to do so, and he often wore very odd ties, this one being a classical painting of cherubs, very ironic Henry thought. Walter had his back to the door, and Richard was a mere few inches from him, shouting in his face. </p>
<p>“Who the hell are you, answer me!” Richard shouted again, Henry was now able to hear him, he was scowling and Henry was glad he hadn't seen him yet. </p>
<p>“S-sir i just, like i said i live here i'm, i'm just new i was..”</p>
<p>“Bull-shit you live here, i know goddamn everybody and i've never even heard of you.”</p>
<p>“I just..moved in a-a couple of days ago i'm not-i don't wanna cause any trouble Sir..”</p>
<p>“Why didn't the Super tell me about you then? Hm?” Richard was infuriatingly smug, and had no qualms about poking an accusatory finger at Walter's chest despite him being a foot taller than him and definitely capable of defending himself. </p>
<p>“Well...well i wouldn't know but i promise, i have a key i can show you if-” Walter reached for his pocket which was the wrong thing to do as Richard immediately pulled his gun out and pointed it at Walter’s face, Walter flinched and his eyes widened considerably his hands now in front of his face, shaking. </p>
<p>“You’ll keep your hands where i can fucking see them.” Richard hissed at him. </p>
<p>“I'm..i'm sorry i..” Walter’s voice trembled and before Henry could do anything  Richard seemed to have noticed Henry out of the corner of his eye as he turned around and quickly glared at him. </p>
<p>“Hey you, Townshend right?” Richard barked over at Henry who flinched, “you know this guy? I caught him snooping around down here and he kept saying he lives on your floor.” </p>
<p>Walter looked at him, pleading with his eyes for help and Henry froze, as he was prone to do, he looked genuinely scared and Henry couldn't blame him as Richard’s damn gun was out in his face, waving it around like a conductor, impassioned by his orchestra of control under a very real threat of violence.</p>
<p>“Answer me!” Richard yelled again and Henry shrank in fear, his mouth opened and closed but his voice wouldn't work, Walter looked more scared than before. “You got about five fucking seconds before this gets ugly.”</p>
<p>“Hey what the hell is going on?” Eileen appeared from the top of the stairs and hurried towards Walter, placing herself between the two men in a manner that would've been comical to someone walking in with no context. </p>
<p>“Finally. Since that freak over there doesn't seem to give a shit,” Richard aggressively jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Henry, “maybe you can tell me if this guy fucking lives here or not. He says he lives on your floor.” </p>
<p>“As a matter of fact he does.'' Eileen put her hands on her hips, looking fairly pissed off, “he just moved in a couple days ago and you're giving him one hell of a goddamn welcome. Any reason you have to be an asshole? He could've been somebody's friend coming to visit, either way you don't gotta yell loud enough to wake up the whole damn complex.” </p>
<p>“The Super tells me when people move in usually.” Richard scoffed, as if she was being unreasonable in her suggestions and anger.</p>
<p>“Didn't know he reported to you.” Eileen replied coolly, “anyways he's old, he probably forgot.”</p>
<p>“Well i'll have to do something about that.” Richard muttered rather sinisterly before continuing, “wouldn't have been such an issue if this one,” he gestured to Henry again, “wasn't some fake mute asshole. Take it up with him, i don't have time to argue with a bunch of stupid twenty year olds and you,” he pointed to Walter who shrank,''I don't like you. So Watch it.” he then turned and stomped up the stairs, still high and mighty as if he hadn't just lost an argument with someone half his age. </p>
<p>“God what a prick.” Eileen muttered scowling, “Walter are you ok?” he just nodded looking slightly faint. She caught Henry’s eye accidentally and scowled more, “Hey were you just not gonna say anything? He had a gun and I know you know he lives here.” she sounded accusatory and angry and Henry once again found himself unable to speak. He went to try and desperately gesture something to her but his hands were shaking too much, she glanced at them and her expression shifted looking slightly worried suddenly. </p>
<p>“Hey, no Eileen he, he didn't do anything, don't be mad it's ok.” Walter interjected very softly, frowning slightly and looking like he wanted to reach for her, but not committing to it.</p>
<p>“Hey are you-wait don't go!” it was too late as Henry, who felt panicky and sick, simply bolted up the stairs and away from the two of them. Not slowing down significantly until he was in his room again, having locked the door, wishing he had a deadbolt but settling for taking the small chair over by his clock and setting it under the door handle so it couldn't be opened, something that made his now strong desire to cry worse. He hadn't done that in two years. He retreated to his room, whose door he also locked, and curled up in bed to try and soothe his shaky breathing and equally trembling hands. </p>
<p>Why had Walter defended him? After everything, shouldn't he be indifferent at best? Why did he give a shit if Eileen was angry with him, Henry had not helped him in the slightest, he didn't know him. </p>
<p>It didn't matter, he wasn't crying but his breath fell short of supplying him with oxygen, and he was still shaking, with his blanket wrapped tightly around his body. After a good twenty minutes he was too tired from the spike in anxiety to keep repeating the same fears of Richard now breaking in and attacking him or everyone hating his guts and he slowly sort of fell asleep. </p>
<p>Henry's restless nap had been interlaced with dreams again but unlike the nightmares he'd been having it was dreams he'd had way before, dreams of memories he'd much rather forget where the yelling and threats were at home in a place such things should never be, a place meant to be safe for its residents, that never really was all that safe for those it was never meant to benefit. Henry had these dreams anytime something like this came up so he wasn't all that perturbed by them, even as he woke up sweaty and weary and sick again, to gentle knocking on the front door that still scared the hell out of him. He groggily got up, and tried not to be too embarrassed by the chair, setting it aside in the kitchen, and looked through the peephole. </p>
<p>One would not receive a prize for guessing who he saw there.</p>
<p>“Henry, good you're ok..” Walter smiled lightly, “you..are ok right?”</p>
<p>“I'm fine.” Henry mumbled, looking anywhere but his face, as per usual. </p>
<p>“I'm..i'm sorry for what happened, i told Eileen it wasn't your fault or anything.” Walter continued in earnest, Henry wasn't sure what to say.</p>
<p>“Why.” </p>
<p>“Uhm…'' Walter frowned, and though before Henry had wondered what he'd look like when wearing a different expression, he actively didn't like having caused it. “I...i just didn't want her to be...be angry at you for no reason.” </p>
<p>“Well. I don't...know her so. It doesn't matter.” Henry replied listlessly, “but..thank you...i suppose.”</p>
<p>“Well, maybe you should...try and talk to her sometime. She's really very sweet, and I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding.” Walter tried again, his smile returning though it seemed nervous. </p>
<p>“What misunderstanding.” Henry asked him, and though he probably knew what he was referring to, he didn't want to clue him in to that fact. “We don't know each other, we’ve n-never talked...” </p>
<p>“Oh right. Just that, she...well she sort of thinks.." Walter wrung his hands nervously and Henry was starting to get uneasy and irritable, maybe it was the anxiety from earlier manifesting worse now, maybe Walter just scared him, and though he felt bad he wanted the conversation over with. </p>
<p>"That i'm weird right. I know." He stated blandly.</p>
<p>"Well..i..no..yes? Not really, it's more complicated-" Walter looked somewhat embarrassed. </p>
<p>"It's ok." Henry interrupted him, and to his surprise Walter stopped and listened. "I don't care what she thinks about me. It's fine."</p>
<p>"Oh...i see." </p>
<p>"I'm fine. Thank you. I'll see you around." Was all Henry could come up with before closing the door on him, he tried not to, but couldn't help looking out the hole again, to see Walter with an expression he could only describe as severely disappointed. </p>
<p>He sighed and wandered around the apartment, feeling guilty but relieved, maybe now Walter would leave him alone. He knew if anyone had taken that tone with him he would never speak to them again. Knowing they didn't want him around. That thought however made him feel even worse, it was starting to come back to him now, those spirals of lethargy and hopelessness, and he couldn't think of a reason why. When did these things ever have a reason really. </p>
<p>He sat and then laid down on the couch, staring up at his ceiling and the fan near it, wondering. Wondering if he was just supposed to feel the way he did forever, and nothing would ever change no matter how much he tried to do for himself to be happier. Some things helped, but not for very long, he was miserable most of the time. Words spoken to him with malice telling him he'll never be anything but a failure, a worthless burnout, someone with no future and, as he realized multiple times, no past either. He was nobody. He would live a nobody and he would, very soon, die a nobody. He guessed one of these days Frank would eventually call the police to clean him up when he found his body, decayed for days, maybe a month, and that would be it. A morbid thought, but he didn't care about indulging it right now, the world felt pointless and cruel. He felt like Sisyphus, pushing the same boulder up the same hill every single day being crushed again and again, whether he slipped up or just the inevitability of his failure. Unlike Sisyphus, nobody could see his boulder, his struggle, as far as he knew he was the only person struggling like this, as self-absorbed as that thought was. He was the only person who did care about Henry and even he didn't like the guy, wishing he would just get it over with, bite the bullet somewhat literally, nobody else would care. </p>
<p>Nobody would really miss Henry Townshend, there wasn't anyone to miss. </p>
<p>But he was too lethargic to kill himself, at least for today. As every other day he simply entertained the idea but eventually after an hour or so, the sun had gone down completely and he could see the clock ticking on the wall, he realized he was being a dramatic idiot and it wasn't worth all of that. Besides, even if they didn't care really, it would probably make Walter and Eileen feel somewhat bad if he'd died after they'd been the last ones to see him. </p>
<p>He sighed and sat up, it was dark now and he berated himself for having napped instead of actually going to the store, now he wouldn't get to bed likely, didn't have food, and he would have to drag himself through an awful day of exhaustion. The store was too much to do now, and he very likely didn't have anything good to eat, he guessed he would try, he hadn't eaten all day. </p>
<p>He stood up wearily, rubbing his eyes and sighing, before heading to the kitchen. He glanced around the room and dug through the cabinets only to find about two potatoes in a bag, he didn't remember buying them but they seemed fine. He had some butter, not a lot by any means but he could scrape the bottom to the tub for the rest of it and get a decent amount and he knew he had some salt and pepper, dinner he supposed, setting them in a bowl and poking them before setting them in the microwave. As he watched them in the microwave he figured he could put his chair back near the clock, and while he did something bright red caught his eye. </p>
<p>It was a piece of paper, lodged into the side of his bookshelf and it looked like it had writing on it. He tilted his head and walked close to it, slowly pulling it out gently and smoothing the paper out. It appeared to be both very old and as though it had just been typed out. Very strange indeed. He started reading this oddly lengthy letter as best as he could.</p>
<p>
  <em>Two years have passed and in my ignorance I had hoped my curse had been broken, I didn't want to think you would be a victim of what has befallen me. However, it seems as though you're now a target of the hell that i've been living in. Henry Townshend, if that really is your name, you might be the most important person now to a cult that resides in a town you seem to have a concerning connection to, the town of Silent Hill. i know this won't make sense to you, and if God exists i pray i am wrong about you, that you're just a very unlucky and strange young person, but i cannot take the chance that you may be in danger, i cannot tell you much now, but i will relay as much information as i can. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You haven't been having normal nightmares, i've seen your nightmares in parts, though i can say i understand them. You've been traveling in these dreams, traveling to places in Silent Hill that don't really exist, places you've subconsciously created at least as far as i believe. I've never seen these places in my visits to the town at least. I've experienced something similar. Henry I have seen some of the strange things that have happened to you, I've seen you waking up in room 101 and I fear the town has chosen you. It chose me as well but not for reasons I can truly understand as of yet. I believe it wants to kill me, i believe it won't let me kill myself, in my terror i can't seem to find anything that makes sense in this place.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But you have become a symbol in this place, you did not create it, but you do have a hand in how it looks, you and Eileen are the only innocence that lives in this building anymore, not that there was much of it to begin with. One or both of you is this places’ mother. I believe in a sense, I have very limited knowledge, perhaps I am wrong whose to say, but there simply is too much of an emphasis on motherhood and the two of you, not to mention other people I believe may be targets or victims…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I will try to help you as much as I can, but for now I'm being hunted down, I cannot stay in this version of my, well our, room. I will find a better way to communicate with you soon. Keep yourself safe, don't do anything reckless and don't go to sleep drunk anymore. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Joseph Schreiber </em> </p>
<p>Henry read and reread over and over but it made very little sense to him no matter how many times he read it. Joseph Schreiber, the name almost sounded familiar but he really couldn't figure out why. Silent Hill, what did he have to do with Silent Hill? What did he mean by the town choosing him? How did this person know his name? What did he mean by suggesting it wasn't his name? How had they known about the incident in room 101? The idea of motherhood and Joseph's caution about his name gave Henry a sick feeling, and had an idea like he was being watched, the paranoia growing worse and he felt his skin crawl at the idea someone had perhaps looked in on him at any point. He wanted to ‘help’ him but in what capacity he wasn't sure, and why did he want to help him. This strange person was talking to him about Silent Hill, that a town had chosen him and was trying to show him something through dreams, and something about a cult. Nothing that made any kind of sense to him. </p>
<p>Henry realized his pathetic dinner was finished now and, still holding and rereading the note, he went back to the kitchen and prepared it, trying to make sense of all of this. Was this a prank of some kind? Maybe but he couldn't see how since it had said so many specific things and had been in his home. He went back into his living room and suddenly noticed something else. </p>
<p>There was another note now, lying on the sofa, the same red paper but when he picked it up, it was far shorter than the first, and the words left a solid pit of ice in his stomach. </p>
<p>
  <em>P.s. Look out for Walter, he can see you. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lua</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[And everything is lonely, I can be my own best friend, I get a coffee and the paper//Have my own conversations, With the sidewalk and the pigeons, And my window reflection//The mask I polish in the evening, By the morning looks like shit//But me, I'm not a gamble//You can count on me to split//But love I sell you in the evening, By the morning won't exist]</p>
<p>Henry speaks up, and receives a strange gift.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>one last chapter before things get a little hectic. there's a lot here though i hope you enjoy it!!<br/>really love the comments alot its so nice &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He'd finally gotten groceries. He only got a couple of things but it would last him for a little bit, any he could maybe scrape together a decent meal. After a few hours of resting from all of this. He climbed the stairs and headed to the third floor door, he'd gotten alcohol again, against the wishes of the man in the letter he'd received, though he’d thought about it over and over but other than that he didn't know what he was supposed to do with all of the information. So he ignored most of it. It'd been two days or so since then and things had been quiet, so it wasn't pertinent to deal with it right now. He rounded the corner and then stopped abruptly.  </p>
<p>Eileen was standing outside of her apartment room with another woman talking and she laughed a little. She was wearing a top with a very low neckline, and a short skirt with a slight cropped pink jacket, soft but noticeable makeup that covered a lot of her freckles. The other woman with her was a bit taller, height added by her slightly heeled shoes, wearing low rise jeans and a slightly cropped blouse with bright chunky jewelry. Her skin tone was about the same as Henry's and she had gorgeous dark hair put up in a bun. They were laughing and if Henry wasn't mistaken Eileen looked to be blushing a little. He tried to think about how to get around the two of them, hoping they would go inside her apartment, but Eileen noticed him and waved to him.</p>
<p>“Hey, Henry.” she called over and the other woman turned to look at him, she seemed curious about him but didn't say anything. </p>
<p>“Do you have a minute? I wanna talk to you about something.” Eileen asked him, something that spiked his anxiety, “you can go put your groceries away first if you want.” Henry just nodded and headed to his room somewhat quickly. </p>
<p>He put his food up, thinking over what he should do, realistically he could just hide until she gave up and left but, as he thought about it, that was so unbelievably rude he felt somewhat guilty for even considering it. But he didn't want to talk to her, he didn't want to have to engage with her, she unnerved him and he wondered if her friend would make fun of him like so many other girls had before, barring him from interacting with them on any level that wasn't being put on a pedestal to be made fun of, a jester, a clown, nothing else but a joke. Still, what choice did he have? What was he supposed to do? He couldn't ignore her forever; they were neighbors, he would have to go out there and take whatever she threw at him. </p>
<p>He opened the door and she was leaning against the wall, biting her nails and staring off into space before she noticed him again.</p>
<p>“Hey, I was worried you were going to just leave me out here.” she smiled pleasantly, a tone that seemed to be joking, Henry’s voice failed him again, he was at least glad the other woman had disappeared. She wouldn't be here to ridicule him for being an idiot. </p>
<p>“...right well..” Eileen looked at the floor and sighed, awkward seeming and he wished more than ever that he knew how to talk to her like a normal person, he couldn't even fathom why, it was just her. He could talk to Walter, Frank, and Jasper even, but not Eileen. </p>
<p>“Look, I just...mostly wanted to say that i'm sorry about everything that happened the other day. I didn't really see what happened. I'm just so sick of Braintree and Walter is so shy and sweet. I wouldn't want anyone to hurt him too bad.” she started sort of rambling and Henry mostly just listened for a moment. </p>
<p>“Oh..thats...thats ok..” Henry murmured as softly as possible as that was the only thing he could make himself say. Glad he managed at least English words in just loud enough of a voice that she could barely hear it. Eileen stopped herself from talking anymore to blink in what appeared to be surprise, not that it made him feel any better; in fact his ears and face felt inexplicably warmer, sure she couldn't possibly notice, but he felt like she knew anyways. </p>
<p>“Wow, uhm..sorry anyways i just really wanted to make sure you were alright but, i didn't want to bother you at home. And uhm..” Eileen sighed a little thinking it through as much as she could, “well Walter kind of told me about him trying to apologize and, what you said and stuff. He didn't really mean to, i don't think he really always knows what he's supposed to say honestly. But anyways..” she shook her head and Henry was even warmer than before, shuffling his feet and putting his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't fidget with them. </p>
<p>“Look i really never meant to hurt your feelings or anything like that, i..i mean if you really don't care or don't want to talk to me or anything like that it's totally fine i get it, i just didn't want to keep letting you keep thinking i'm super judgmental or something. I know we’ve literally never talked but you seem nice and I don't think any of those awful things Braintree said about you are true.” she said looking a bit nervous but earnest and sincere. He had no idea what the hell to say to that, he'd never been apologized to, well ever. </p>
<p>“Oh...oh i..i, it's ok i..i don't mind it’s, fine really.” </p>
<p>"You don't...mind?" Eileen frowned a little looking confused, “ are you sure?” </p>
<p>“It's..it's nothing…”</p>
<p>“Well..if you're sure..” Eileen looked doubtful, “but i'm sorry anyways. I know we probably won't ever be friends but i don't want you to think i don't like you or have something against you.” Henry sort of felt a strange punch to his gut at her assurance they weren't meant to be friends, but he guessed she was right. </p>
<p>"It's ok...i don't..don't think that." </p>
<p>"Well..good." Eileen didn't seem to believe him but accepted it anyways."Like i said..we don't have to be best friends, or even good friends, but...I'd like us to be neighbors at least?"</p>
<p>"Wh...what are we now?" </p>
<p>"Well...nothing really.” she admitted and he just nodded. Of course. She seemed to be expecting an answer. </p>
<p>“Well...well that's..that's ok...i, we can be...that.” he managed sounding stupid as hell, Eileen seemed to be trying to interpret whatever he actually said, there was something in her expression that he couldn't understand exactly, almost like she was hanging on to every word that softly slipped out of his mouth. </p>
<p>“Alright...good.” she said eventually, “i don't mean to be nosey. I just like to look out for people y'know?”</p>
<p>“That..makes sense.” </p>
<p>“Well...i gotta get going, i uh, have guests, “she laughed a little, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness, “See you around Henry, try not to get into any trouble.” Eileen smiled and he waved back, turning into her apartment and closing the door with a soft click. Henry turned to do the same. Standing in his own doorway somewhat lost. </p>
<p>Henry sat down at the counter and thought about what she said to him, he felt a lot of things, he was decent at identifying them, but not at actually feeling them correctly. What was he supposed to do with these feelings anyways? Just sit here and have them? Regardless he was on tenterhooks at the mere idea of friendship or in reality, knowing another person at all. He didn't want to be accountable to himself in any way, he didn't want someone to even entertain the idea of caring about him, and a neighbor in some sense, would.</p>
<p>Still, he’d said yes.</p>
<p>Out of obligation? Under the impression that it would never actually mean anything, empty words in an emptier hallway? Simply out of an inability to say no? Or was there some deep seated desire that went against everything he had convinced himself he was? Were his introverted tendencies something he had always been or someone he'd adapted himself to become? Henry didn't know for sure, it had been creeping up on him for a while now that his misery was likely his own doing, his isolation not a hand he’d been dealt, he was only a victim of himself and his own rules, his own neurosis that he'd never fixed, never healed, and it was his own fault. He was not to be pitied. If he really thought about it, he knew he was only barely surviving. But he couldn't see any other way to live. He was stuck. He could feel it deep in whatever part of his soul he had not drowned out. </p>
<p>Misery clung to the faded grey walls like a mold festering, Henry was the source of it, he was a poison. A repellent, weed killer in a garden of flowers. Whatever was wrong with him, it was bad for other people. </p>
<p>Eileen couldn't know him. He wouldn't let her. </p>
<p>His head hurt a little. He decided to shower now that he felt vaguely bad, a low cloud of moodiness descending on the room. He felt like a stranger was sitting in his chair, he was a consciousness aside from it and he needed to reconnect in some way. He guessed being forced to touch and wash himself, the body he'd been given by some god playing a joke, would be sufficient to ground himself into the reality that he did know himself. He was Henry and Henry resided in this body. </p>
<p>Not to mention the hot water would ease the nausea that he inexplicably felt despite this detachment.</p>
<p>Gathering the puppet that he piloted, and some clothes that were less sweaty from the interaction with another person, he headed to the bathroom attempting to clear his mind of all of his detaching questions and the maladjustment permeating the space. </p>
<p>He locked the door to the bathroom, slowly taking off his clothes and as realized he couldn't stand to look at himself in the mirror, he tossed his shirt over it. He realized he was paranoid, but there was nothing he could do about that. He needed to shower more. It was the only thing that meant sense. Henry let the hot water wash over him, warming his skin and making him somewhat hyper aware of his body now but it was nowhere near as relaxing as it was supposed to be; he got the distinct impression that someone could see him, was staring at and scrutinizing every inch of exposed skin, he felt dirty. He couldn't shake the feeling of being violated by eyes he couldn't see, he tried to clean himself quickly, but his stomach twisted when he had to clean any part of himself that might be considered private. </p>
<p>Henry quickly redressed feeling marginally better with clothes on, a large sweater and t-shirt underneath it, long sweatpants, comfortable and large enough to hide everything. The feeling of being watched dispelled soon after, and he rationalized this as his detachment manifesting objectification to upset him, maybe something to do with being seen by someone even normally. He tried to push it away. The mirror didn't show him a terrifying stranger any longer, just the tall, scruffy, expressionless man he recognized as himself. He brushed his hair, realizing not for the first time that he really needed a haircut, the last time he'd gone to a salon of any kind he'd been young, twelve or thirteen and he’d nearly ran out of there and hid halfway through the experience. He hated every aspect of it, a huge mirror, strangers touching him and trying to make conversation, the horrible irrational fear of the scissors slipping and cutting his neck or ear, it was a whole ordeal. He mostly cut his own hair at times when it was too long to see well. But he didn't like doing it, not just because of his aversion to sharp objects he couldn't control well, he needed the control, but because he also really didn't want to look stupid. </p>
<p>He made his way out of the room feeling mostly content but tired, wrapping his blanket from the bedroom around his shoulders (he really should get a real blanket, a comforter or something but he kept making the stupider choice to buy alcohol with his extra money) and deciding that microwaved soup would be a comforting sort of food to have right about now. It was cold inside, not helped by his wet hair, so the promise of warm, salty cheap food was enticing. A small childhood memory, that was actually kind of nice, of eating cheap soup and crackers while sick and lying down to watch the Wizard Of Oz on repeat while he napped on and off. Strange to think a good memory was one where he felt like puking but the association was there nonetheless. </p>
<p>Canned potato soup, he didn't feel like drinking right now, so he made coffee instead, sure it was night but coffee didn't do much to wake him up really, and it was as warm and comforting as the soup. He meant to get something like apple cider, something seasonal he could warm up, but forgot in lieu of finding donuts that were marked down from the bakery in the grocery store that he didn't even end up buying. He carefully held the soup bowl with his hands covered by his sweater and set it one the coffee table in the living room, and then made his coffee. He could drink it black but didn't prefer it, sugar and milk more palatable especially when he was in a delicate sort of mood. </p>
<p>He sat quietly and ate, feeling quite a bit better as he hadn't realized he was hungry. He tried not to think about his mild breakdown, it would only make him feel bad again, he just wanted to feel mildly empty and somewhat content. He didn't know what had triggered it, usually he could tell but it didn't matter, it was over now. He didn't get up immediately after finishing his food, sitting on his couch with the blanket around his shoulders, he was calm. His hair was still damp with as thick as it was but he was warm enough otherwise. Not watching tv, not listening to music, just sitting on his couch, head cleared for once. </p>
<p>There was a very soft knock at the door and Henry frowned confused but went and looked out the peephole, not sure who he wanted it to be, but to his dismay, or relief? it was nobody. Still he opened the door and saw in front of him a little basket not unlike a small Easter basket, suspicious, Henry picked it up and located a little note written in pen but with somewhat wobbly uneven, handwriting. He looked left and right but there was no one to be seen and it was rather quiet. </p>
<p>
  <em>Henry, I know I apologized before, but I'm still very sorry about what happened with Mr. Braintree and wanted to make it up to you, I hope you like it!! -Walter.</em>
</p>
<p>Henry was so taken aback by this he just blinked at the note for a good minute or so. Standing in his doorway reading and rereading this note. The basket had a small dish towel covering the contents of the basket, and Henry was too embarrassed to look at it where someone else could see, as if it were not allowed. He took it to his couch and pulled the towel off, staring at the contents of the basket, even more baffled. </p>
<p>There were a handful of snacks in the basket, all things Henry often bought from the gas station, including his favorite energy drink, one that had a mango flavor that reminded him of fruit juice but better. Corn chips, very small marshmallows, the kind of beef jerky he could chew on for awhile, his favorite snacks. There were also a collection of little trinkets, a pen that could write in a bunch of colors, a small rubber frog toy Henry found very whimsical, a tiny stuffed cat with floppy ears, something that appeared to be a stress ball though it was weirdly in the shape of a head (he squeezed it a few times and decided he liked it anyways), and last but certainly not least a drawing of a little bird perched on a tree branch with a flower blooming at the end of it. The drawing clearly wasn't professional but it wasn't amateurish either, there was some skill and practice with it, a style to it even. It was cute, and somewhat impressive, with a little note being sung by the bird in the same handwriting as before but in a language Henry didn't even recognize. He was insatiably curious about what it could say, but he got the strange premonition that it was a complement of some kind. </p>
<p>This was baffling to say the least. Henry hadn’t had someone give him a gift in many years, and had almost never been given a gift actually catered to things he liked, might like or at least felt like a genuine attempt to give him something interesting. But Walter had. There was the implication that he’d stared at him enough to notice the kinds of foods he liked, but Henry guessed he was often in the hallways, and Henry did eat a lot of snacks rather than actual food. Maybe he'd just noticed, and when he went to do something to be nice for Henry he figured he could give him things he liked to eat. </p>
<p>No it was more that he'd done something nice for Henry at all. It left him with a strange ache in his chest, like longing almost, like he wanted him to know him in some way. Or that he was lacking something that this strange but relatively sweet gesture gave him a taste of. Henry set the basket on the coffee table and was holding the stuffed cat, thinking. Wondering why, why had Walter done this? What had Henry done to deserve something like this? </p>
<p>Maybe Walter wasn't so bad after all, Henry almost felt bad for judging him so harshly. He thought about what Eileen said, that they didn't need to be best friends, but neighbors wouldn't be too bad. Walter just seemed like he wanted to be friendly, in fact he was trying incredibly hard, and Henry didn't understand his insistence but realized that didn't mean he had to dismiss him. No, Henry wouldn't be friends with him, Henry didn't make friends, but he could be more cordial. He may have revolved his entire life around being alone, he may have done this because he hated people, almost as much as he hated himself, but he knew what it was like to be shunned for no reason, and he couldn't handle doing that to someone else for any reason. </p>
<p>He remembered the note ‘Joseph’ had left him, and while he felt those eyes on him, and part of him felt like it wasn't just his own paranoia, he couldn't help but feel like it wasn't Walter. Newfound bias perhaps, but something about his shy demeanor that while he might've been kind of weird and somewhat creepy, he did not seem creepy in a predator sort of way, more in a ghostly, off putting way. As if Walter wasn't quite human, but had no known malicious intent. There was a difference and Henry knew it well.</p>
<p>Henry laid down on the couch, holding the toy and feeling warm and sleepy, he’d pulled his blanket over himself and the soft layers of cotton blocked out an almost unnatural cold seeping in from the various cracks in the walls and windows. It was soothing to be wrapped up in blankets and holding the toy much like he'd done when he was a young child as he was lulled almost to sleep.</p>
<p><em>“Henry. Wake up. You're not listening to me.” </em>a voice could be heard somewhere near the side of his head, Henry waved the voice away from his ear like a bothersome fly. </p>
<p><em>“Don't let your guard down. Don't let him get into your head. You have to listen to me. You have to fight it.”</em> the voice hissed in his ear, but Henry was unable to pay it any attention as he was basically already asleep. </p>
<p>His dream this time took place somewhere he didn't recognize. A museum of sorts, history he would have assumed looking at possibly ancient artifacts. The only light came from little lamps in the displays, pitch darkness everywhere else and footsteps on linoleum off in the distance. He walked down the path looking at fossils and bones, there were none of the little plaques that would usually display the names of the things and a short description, meaning that he had no idea what these things were. The displays began to get somewhat gresusome as he continued, still hearing the footsteps and now a small voice, one that sounded like the echo of a little girl, but he couldn't be sure. The displays showed bones covered in gristle and flesh, melting off of it in the heat of the lamp. He moved to the next display, this next one the mutilated body of an animal, perhaps a dog but it was impossible to tell. The one after that a human arm, he felt sick, the crying of the little girl grew louder and more scared, he wanted to help her but couldn't take his eyes off of the displays. The last one in a much bigger display was a twisted full human corpse, rotting and flesh colored, a faceless woman no eye holes or even nose, many arms protruding from her back, her body stitched up in several places with a large incision below her stomach, were a cesarean would be performed, she was holding a headless child in the arms that where positioned normally on her body, a disgusting rotting umbilical cord attaching what was left of the child to the wound in her stomach. Gore, strips of flesh fell off of her arms, blood slid down her thighs and legs and pooled at the ground. It flowed more than it should have, and he finally tore his eyes away from the corpse as blood reached his feet and stained the bottom of his pants, but he couldn't seem to move. He heard the creaking of metal and a groan, a panting gasp of agony and his attention snapped to the woman again who had pulled herself from the pedestal, her body creaking, she should not be able to move but she was walking forward many of her arms reaching for him clutching her child desperately. She seemed to be pleading for help. The voice of the little girl sounded like she was next to him at his feet, sobbing hysterically. ‘Mommy? Mommy what's wrong, what's happening, why are you hurt?’ the voice wailed. He couldn't breathe. The overwhelming smell of death and blood filled his lungs, he felt a hand tugging at his arm, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the bleeding ‘mother’ whose hands grabbed his face pleading for him to help. The air was now full of the sounds of an ambulance wailing in the distance.</p>
<p>Henry awoke abruptly, he couldn't move, he didn't know where he was or why he felt so strange. His head ached worse than it ever had before and he felt sick, the sounds and smells still lingering. He took several deep breaths to calm down. He opened his eyes, and immediately his heart jumped into his throat. </p>
<p>A pair of bright green eyes, dark brown splashed around the slightly dilated pupils, met his own, long blonde hair falling in a curtain on either side of his face. His eyes met a contented smile that he knew so very well. </p>
<p>“Good morning.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Flood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[All I knew and all I believed//Crumbling images, No longer comfort me.//Scramble to reach higher ground, Order and sanity, Something to comfort me.//So I take what is mine, and hold what is mine]</p>
<p>Henry has a visitor, and thing stop making much sense.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>were picking up the pace a little! still adore all the comments ive gotten they mean so much ilu &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry jerked awake, trying to figure out where the hell he was, his room, that was fine, Walter was standing far too close. Walter was in his apartment, no worse than that Walter was in his room.</p>
<p>“What the hell.” Henry managed in his fear and sudden panic, sitting bolt upright and backing away from Walter as best as he could, he was on his bed (had Walter put him here?) and dull sunlight pushed their way through dirty windows illuminating the man who, inexplicably, was standing in his bedroom. </p>
<p>“Don't be afraid, please.” Walter’s soft voice betrayed only mild worry, he held his hands in front of him as a defensive and calming gesture. “I promise, i..well i can't exactly explain but..”</p>
<p>“Get out.” Henry interrupted him in his panic.</p>
<p>“I'm sorry but Henry i-”</p>
<p>“Get out of my room.” </p>
<p>Walter looked a bit taken aback and hurt by this but simply sighed and nodded after considering it, turning and closing the door behind him when he did so. Henry didn't care to think about it now, he was mildly panicking, his chest felt tight and he felt hot and could smell blood still. </p>
<p>He tried to stand up and felt something wet brush against his skin and when he looked down he nearly wanted to throw up. There was blood on his feet and the bottom of his pants, staining the carpet underneath him. Blood, blood how did the blood get here; the blood from his dream. The monster’s body and the way it touched him and the crying child, and it would be one thing for it to just be a dream but the blood was horrifying, he held his head in his shaking hands and tried to remember how to breathe. There had to be an explanation that made sense. There had to be a reason, the dream couldn't be real, something like that wasn't real, he was in his room, he couldn't have left, he'd never even been to that museum before. It was just a dream. Just a bad, horrible dream. Maybe he'd just been sleepwalking or something, and he'd hurt himself and that's why the blood was there and it was just some coincidence he’d had such a similar dream, that made sense. It was just a coincidence. The idea calmed him somewhat.</p>
<p>Either that, or Walter had done something to him. He forced that thought from his mind. </p>
<p>He had almost forgotten about Walter. How could he? How had he gotten in? Come to think of it Henry had forgotten to lock the door, so there was that. Why had he broken in? Well that was something he didn't have an answer for. Maybe that was something he didn't want an answer for. He was in his bed, he'd fallen asleep on the couch with his blanket and that stuffed animal, and now he was on his bed with no blanket, blood staining the sheets, and he felt somewhat sick to have been presumably moved from where he was sleeping, and possibly injured while he was vulnerable. Henry didn't know what he was going to do, but he was far less terrified than before. Still disgusted, scared, somewhat angry even. He'd tried to give Walter a chance, he’d decided to be as amicable as he could be, accepted his gift and had somewhat resolved to be nicer. Sure Walter didn't know that yet but he hadn't given him a chance to show him, and now he had ruined it for the both of them.</p>
<p>He sighed and stood up, still shaking, and slowly made his way to the door, walking out of his room and into his bathroom to clean himself up. He didn't have the energy for a shower, he'd grabbed some pants he’d worn the other day to put on (his laundry had gotten away from him again, typical) when he was as clean as he could be he sighed staring into the mirror. He looked exhausted. He was exhausted. Dark circles and lines under his eyes gave his face an older appearance, he swore he had grey hair though he might've been imagining it from the shitty lighting, he wouldn't be surprised even if he was only in his early twenties. He guessed it was better than looking too young. He couldn't stand to stare at himself anymore. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't thirsty, didn't have to use the bathroom, hell he was only tired. He didn't always feel these things strongly when he just woke up, and often forgot or ignored hunger, but usually he felt something. Not now though. Just tired, and the room felt heavy. </p>
<p>He walked to go to his kitchen only to stop in his tracks.</p>
<p>Walter was standing in front of his laundry room door, standing with his hands behind his back. His coat was missing again with just a thinner black sweatshirt that looked like it fit a little too well, he wasn't wearing shoes, just socks and the same rolled up brown pants. His eyes seemed to be scanning the room, and eventually they landed on Henry and he blinked almost as if surprised to see him there. </p>
<p>"Why are you still in here." Henry asked him flatly, he wasn't rude necessarily but he wasn't trying to be nice either. </p>
<p>“Well..” Walter stepped to the side and gestured to the front door.  </p>
<p>The front door that was bolted shut with heavy chains. Several of them all along the door with padlocks attaching themselves to hooks bolted into the wall. A bizarre image he could barely even understand.</p>
<p>“What the hell…” Henry stared at it dumbfounded.</p>
<p>“Yes, well, there's not much I can really do to leave.” Walter stated rather calmly, almost something that Henry thought might've been sarcasm lacing his tone. “I promise Henry, that I didn't want to intrude on you.”</p>
<p>“How did you get in here.” he asked when he found his voice again, giving him a sideways glance. </p>
<p>“I woke up here.” Walter nodded, staring at the front door, and then glancing at the couch were Henry’s blanket and the gifts Walter had given him had been left. Henry nearly wanted to step in front of the items to block his view of them. “I didn't move you either. If you were sleeping on the couch there. I simply heard noise from your room and was concerned.” </p>
<p>“Oh.” </p>
<p>“You had blood on you. Are you alright?” their eyes met briefly and Henry nearly immediately broke eye contact, crossing his arms and staring back at the door.</p>
<p>“Fine.” Walter tilted his head and acutely examined him, searching his expression for something, something he evidently couldn't find as Henry was nothing if he wasn't a master of impassive expressions. </p>
<p>“Alright.” Walter sighed, “it appears as though we’re stuck. I..don't know how i got in here, or how you got to your bed. Or where the blood came from. Or these chains, perhaps we can find another way out though.” </p>
<p>Henry for reasons he didn't fully understand, firmly locked his eyes on Walter’s face and scrutinized it for anything that could indicate that he was lying because Henry was certain that he was. He couldn't figure out why he was sure of this, he just had a sort of instinct that it was the case. He occasionally had this sort of insight into people, his gut telling him things he had no reason to suspect, he didn't know if it was his parents or other adults that had ingrained this in him or if he simply had always had this odd instinct. That people were lying, that people had bad intentions, that people had ulterior motives, perhaps it was anxiety. He sure didn't know. However he didn't find anything to confirm or deny his assumption in Walter, he was fairly good at controlling his feelings evidently. </p>
<p>He approached the front door, setting a hand on the cold metal, they were new chains, clean and sturdy with unfortunately no rust. The padlocks and bolts were the same. No chance of breaking them with a wrench or something similar. Henry didn't have any tools to unscrew them from the wall either. He glanced behind him to see Walter staring at his picture of Silent Hill over the couch, the picture Frank had given him, he assumed it was an attempt to appeal to his interests despite the deep uncharacteristic sorrow in his eyes when he'd given it to him. Walter had a strange expression himself, something akin to longing. Henry got the feeling he’d been to the place in the picture. He found himself entranced by Walter and his expression,(maybe it was the headache, the odd air in the apartment had started to affect him physically it seemed) and stood there staring at him for a moment. Walter didn't seem to realize that Henry was looking and thus didn't have a mask over his features, that tight grip of control Henry barely realized he had until the reigns has slipped from Walter’s grasp, a soft furrowed brow and his something like sorrow etching itself into the lines embedded into his face. </p>
<p>Henry pulled his eyes away and proceeded to look through the peephole to try and gauge if he could see anyone. To his sudden relief Eileen was there, standing at his door, frowning appearing concerned. She began to knock, and then started hitting the long since useless doorbell and then frowned more. </p>
<p>“Eileen? Eileen! Help me! Let me out! “ he tried to call for her but his voice escaped his lungs in quite a feeble manner and he couldn't seem to make it any louder, she visibly sighed and shook her head before turning and walking off. </p>
<p>“If she’s out there, she can't hear you through the door.” Walter said from right behind him and he jumped a little, turning around to frown at him. “Sorry.” </p>
<p>“It's fine. Why can't she hear? I can hear her...” Henry asked him blandly, feeling a drop in his stomach, “and how do you know?” </p>
<p>“I don't know why, and i tried earlier.” Walter said just as calmly as before, Henry couldn't tell if he was lying or not. He shook his head and turned and walked over to the windows, and attempted to open them. Nothing. He tried again, maybe they'd gotten stuck, throwing the entirety of his body weight into it. Sealed tightly, as if they’d never been opened before and were not meant to be. Of course. Henry sighed, frustrated, looking back to Walter who was now gazing at pictures on the table that had his lamp. He felt a rock in the pit of his stomach as the other man’s gaze rested on the picture of a young child, he tried to tell himself Walter would likely not guess accurately who the child was, but he also knew he wasn't as in control of the situation as he'd like to be. </p>
<p>“Are these pictures of your family?” he asked lightly, clearly just trying to make small talk. Henry didn't want to answer any questions but had no real reason to deny him this.</p>
<p>“Yeah. my parents.” he mumbled, looking at the picture of his smiling mother and father and his own unenthused expression made him uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“Is this little girl your sister?”</p>
<p>“...you could say that.” Henry shifted tensely.</p>
<p>“Are you two close?”</p>
<p>“No. she…” he grasped for some explanation and then said the first thing that came to mind, “she passed away. A long time ago.” </p>
<p>“Oh. i'm sorry.”</p>
<p>“It's fine.” Henry shook his head and looked over at his TV just for something to do. “She was young. I didn't know her well.” he wasn't exactly wrong, but he felt dirty for lying anyways. Silence. A good several minutes of it as Walter turned his gaze away from the child and to his graduation picture, Henry had no idea what he thought of this. Of anything really. There was something so strange about Walter, even stranger than normal like he was trying to photocopy everything in Henry’s home into his mind and it was somewhat nerve wracking. Eventually he turned back to the rest of the room, Henry having put all of the gifts in the basket and set it on the other side of the couch so he couldn't see them, Walter cleared his throat. </p>
<p>“I...i like your home. It's...very practical.” Walter said eventually, Henry wasn't sure what to make of that. Practical hardly sounded like a complement, he might as well say Henry didn't have a personality. He wouldn't be wrong. </p>
<p>“Uhm..thank you.” Henry wandered back to the door and looked out of it, but there was nobody there, just an empty dingy hallway. He couldn't even hear any noise coming from it.</p>
<p>“I believe...we might be stuck here for a while. I..i tried the phone and..it didn't work, the windows in your bedroom don't either…” Walter tried again, his hands clasped together in front of himself as though he were lightly pleading with Henry to give him more of a chance. Henry didn't like that he'd been touching things in his house, even if it was just his windows and telephone, in fact he was so uncomfortable with everything happening right now he wanted to hide, but he guessed this wasn’t Walter’s fault. He couldn't fathom any reason Walter would have done this himself, nor could he think of any way it could've been accomplished.</p>
<p>It was becoming increasingly clear that something supernatural was going on. It wasn't that Henry didn't think it was a possibility, but he really hadn't wanted to consider it. The ordeal with Joseph had been similar to things that had happened to him in the past, besides the warnings, but this, this was new. And he really didn't like the uncertainty of it.</p>
<p>“What do you think we should do?” Henry asked him after a moment of thinking. Walter wrung his hands and furrowed his brow, and looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't figure out how to express it, an expression Henry knew he also wore often. </p>
<p>“Well we could...could..” Walter began but suddenly they were interrupted by a loud crashing noise that came from the other side of the apartment. They both jumped and glanced at each other, Henry trembling now, terrified as his mind quickly offered him the idea that one of the creatures from his dream had clawed its way into reality. He shook his head trying not to consider it, he had enough to worry about and that was just stupid and paranoid. Probably. </p>
<p>He approached the end of the hallway, opening his bedroom door only to find it was completely normal, nothing out of place, nothing had fallen. The bathroom then. Maybe some soap had fallen over? It didn't seem likely, and he had to check anyways, but it made him feel better to think about. When he closed his bedroom door, Walter was right behind him and he jumped not expecting his presence, Walter backing away with his hands raised as if Henry was going to attack him. He didn't have time to consider the implications of that, simply just taking a deep breath and opening the other door holding his breath.</p>
<p>But there was nothing. The bathroom was normal. He walked inside and looked around. Nothing was out of place. Soap and towels where they were supposed to be, everything as he'd left it less than ten minutes ago.</p>
<p>“Huh…” Henry just shook his head, “i don't know what..” but he was interrupted by Walter making his way into the bathroom, the two of them took up quite a bit of space in this tiny space and it was slightly claustrophobic at least for Henry who wanted to keep a solid foot or two between the two of them. Walter touched the wall, murmuring to himself, Henry almost asked him what the hell he was doing but Walter turned back around and there was something indescribable in his gaze that scared him a little. </p>
<p>“We...we can get out through here.” Walter said pointing directly at the solid wall. Henry just blinked at him stupefied by this insane statement. He must've lost his mind.</p>
<p>“Walter…there's nothing there.” Henry didn't know how else to say this, or even why he had to say it, Walter frowned as if confused.</p>
<p>“There's a hole we can use to escape.” he gestured to the wall again. </p>
<p>“Hole? Walter...what hole?” Henry gestured outwardly. Walter sighed and shook his head, some kind of knowing look on his face. </p>
<p>“You can't see it hm?” Walter nodded when Henry shook his head, “well that's alright, i'll show you.” he held his hand out in front of him as if inviting Henry to take it, Henry did not take his hand. “I'll take you through it.”</p>
<p>“Take me through what…”</p>
<p>“The hole.”</p>
<p>“What hole?” Henry was getting somewhat frustrated, he almost wanted to insist there wasn't any hole, but Walter looked so convinced of this imaginary exit he couldn't bring himself to say it outloud. </p>
<p>“Just take my hand and i'll show you.” Walter insisted, “trust me.” Henry glanced at his hand ruefully, there was nothing that told him he should trust Walter, he was in his house uninvited under circumstances Henry didn't understand and that he suspected Walter knew more about than he was letting on. There were many instances before this of strangeness, and he was now here telling him there was an invisible hole in his bathroom wall that he could take him through to escape the room they were trapped in. All in all, even a normal person would likely have no reason to trust this man. Walter, who’s face had adorned his signature peacefully emotionless smile, had begun to look nervous. </p>
<p>“Please Henry, i just want to help…” Henry considered this for several more seconds, but sighed and shook his head. Really, what choice did he have? He could at least humor him. </p>
<p>Henry hesitantly took his hand, and before he could even register Walter’s palm wrapping around his own a sudden powerful jolt of agony traveled from the tips of his fingers to his head and he jerked backwards violently while a white hot drumming began hammering the inside of his skull, he didn't really notice at first but he was groaning and panting, his back smacking against the shower wall. He held his head in his hands and tried to breathe; he went to open his eyes but he could only see bright white light. He swore he could hear several voices overlapping one another in his ears that were ringing loudly. </p>
<p>
  <em>….Separate from the flesh… holy..decent..<br/>..get away from him he's dirty…that was stupid..<br/>...get the hell out of here you brat...don't piss me off…<br/>You should be happy...the hooded one has chosen you….</em>
</p>
<p>The ringing slowly stopped, and his vision started returning ever so slowly, his trembling limbs weren't helping him stand but the pain was receding somewhat. After a moment he managed to open his eyes and was completely bewildered by the scene in front of him. </p>
<p>There was, indeed, a hole in his bathroom wall. It looked as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to the side of the bathroom as there were chunks of tile and concrete scattered about the floor, the mirror and sink were destroyed, there was a pipe sticking out of the wall as well and Henry swore he could hear whispering emanating from it. </p>
<p>“What the hell...” Henry stared stupidly at the scene in front of him, delirious. </p>
<p>“Henry? What happened, are you ok?” Walter had leaned over slightly to be more at eye level with him, Henry was too busy looking at the hole to answer for a minute. </p>
<p>“I...don't know…” he shook himself a little and walked over to the hole, reaching his hand forward to feel if it was really there, and in fact it was. </p>
<p>“Henry?”</p>
<p>“What..happened?”</p>
<p>“You see it?”</p>
<p>“...yeah.” </p>
<p>“Well that's good. I think.” Walter shook his head, “Henry what happened? Did you see something? Anything at all?” His voice sounded rather urgant and Henry turned and looked back at him at his tone, despite his confusion and delirium, Henry got the feeling he shouldn't say what exactly happened; he trusted Walter even less than before.</p>
<p>“...no.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure?” </p>
<p>“I didn't see anything. It just hurt. Alot.” Henry replied more firmly, he had no idea if Walter believed him, but he let it go regardless. </p>
<p>“Right. Well...i think we should...try and get out this way.” Walter suggested again and Henry turned to look at the hole once more. It gave him a feeling of dread and foreboding, nothing good could come from Walter’s suggestion. Still, Henry was insatiably curious, and really wanted Walter out of his house. He backed away a little to sort of asses it better, it wasn't too far off the ground, and Henry very likely could fit through it with no problem, but Walter on the other hand was far less thin and had much broader shoulders.</p>
<p>“..i think you should go first.” Henry stated after a moment, “if you get stuck i could pull you back out.” he explained after Walter gave him sideways glance, he then seemed to go a little red but nodded nevertheless.</p>
<p>“That's not a bad idea. There's only one way to find out if this leads anywhere.” and with that and a bit more hesitance, Walter approached the hole and began to try and fit himself through it, he was clearly having a bit of a struggle, but with some wiggling and some grunting he managed to get inside and begin crawling forward. Henry was right behind him, waiting for him to inevitably get stuck but he never did, instead he quickly disappeared into the darkness.</p>
<p>“Walter?” he called for him down the tunnel but there was no answer, he tried again a little bit louder but to no avail. His voice didn't echo in the hole. </p>
<p>Henry took a deep breath and though he could very well have stayed put, it didn't make any sense to do so, he couldn't get out of his apartment any other way, and he did wonder were this hole could lead, and maybe just maybe part of him was a little worried that walter hadn’t answered when he’d called for him. So he stuck his head inside and hoisted himself up into the opening, one that was damp but cold, and began to crawl on his belly. He couldn't imagine how Walter had gotten through here as it was uncomfortably small, it seemed so much longer than he'd imagined, though he wasn't sure where he thought it would lead. There was a white light at the end of the tunnel, and all of this was so familiar besides the temperature being so much colder than before. He thought he heard a train, and voices and the creaking of what might've been a turnstile but he wasn't sure. It smelled of rainwater and garbage, and old fast food. He was slightly out of breath closer he got to this light, hoping beyond hope he was almost out. Almost free. </p>
<p>The light nearly blinded him. </p>
<p>Henry blinked himself awake, and looked around, he was in what looked to be a public bathroom of sorts. There were three stalls and some sinks and one long cracked mirror just opposite him. He stood up and examined his surroundings. It wasn't the worst bathroom he’d been in, but definitely not the best either. All three stalls were closed, and one of them might have been occupied as he thought he could see shoes under one of them, behind him was what looked to be a filled in hole, not too much unlike the one that had been in his bathroom. There wasn't all that much of interest here, so he figured Walter if he'd come this way had wandered off. He proceeded to head out of the bathroom (finding that it was the women's bathroom, disconcerting for Henry surely and he guessed Walter might have felt similarly) and looked around. It looked like he was in the subway station, but a little more worn down than he remembered though he hadn't used the subway in quite awhile. He wasn't sure what to do so he simply chose the direction which would lead him to the actual trains and headed that way, taking a moment to go over the situation he found himself in. </p>
<p>For one thing, he wasn't wearing shoes. He figured he'd be fine, there usually wasn't glass or needles around here, but it wasn't ideal. Walter was missing, but he wasn't sure if he was even upset about that. He'd crawled through a hole, and ended up at the subway, weird. Maybe he was dreaming? But he felt awake and alive, in control of himself and not in some haze where he felt like he was moving in slow motion like his other dreams. There was a low droning sound that seemed to be resonating from the walls themselves. All the maps on the walls had been ripped up or burned, but he did know where everything was at least. He couldn't decide if he was dreaming or not but wasn't sure if it mattered.</p>
<p>He wandered to the area where the turnstiles for Lynch Street Line and King Street Line, as he looked around he noticed the same heavy atmosphere as his apartment. He noticed a conspicuous piece of paper on top of one of the public telephones, curious he walked over and picked it up realizing it was in what appeared to be Walter’s handwriting. </p>
<p>
  <em>Henry, if you find this I've gone down Lynch Street, back in the bathroom there's a ticket that’ll lead you to King Street, we can meet up by the subway cars.</em>
</p>
<p>Henry reread it to make sure he understood the instructions and folded it, putting it in his pocket. The bathroom, he’d just been there and seen nothing but maybe he’d missed it somehow, or it was in the men’s. He turned back that way and headed to the bathrooms, and when he got there he opened the mens room, looking around everywhere for what he assumed was either a ticket or a coin that could be used to get through the turnstiles but found nothing except disgusting urinals and sinks that didn't work. He swore they worked last time, well the sinks anyways, he had no use for urinals. </p>
<p>So he braved going back into the women's restroom, figuring he could maybe say he'd accidentally gotten them mixed up and only look mildly stupid if he was caught, but it appeared as if nobody was there. He kept looking along the floors that had never been mopped but that were surprisingly devoid of trash for a coin or ticket. When he turned the corner he noticed one of the three stalls was open, and he thought he saw an arm reaching outwards. curious he approached it and felt his skin crawl when he laid his eyes on the thing placed there. A life size white mannequin sat on the toilet, it was reaching forward with it's hand, with a commuter ticket in between it's fingers. The mannequin was extremely detailed, carved like a stone statue but clearly made of plastic. It had clothing, hair even jewelry carved out of the white plastic. It looked like a woman, with a somewhat pained expression on her face as though she were scared, and even stranger still was that he thought he recognized the woman, but genuinely couldn't be sure. </p>
<p>Why had Walter left this ticket here? He guessed he could see it clearly, and it had taken some maneuvering to get the ticket out of her fingers, but still it was unnerving. He'd never seen a mannequin that looked quite like this one, like a real human woman had been frozen and covered in plastic. </p>
<p>He shuddered and turned away from it, ticket in hand and wandered back to where the turnstiles were, placing the ticket into the turnstile, and pushed his way through, going to head down the stairs. The door of the ticket booth next to him rattled suddenly and he jumped, nervously staring into it, he didn't see anything at first, and slowly walked over to it, squinting to try and see better inside. Nothing. </p>
<p>He backed away and kept his eye on the door but nothing else happened, he was on edge, he knew that much, but he couldn't trust anything around him. Not when he felt so awake and alive. He could think clearly, so as far as he knew, this all was really happening. Somehow.</p>
<p>He made his way down the stairs, it was somewhat dark but not so much that he couldn't see, but it was getting a bit cold. The platform below him had a locked door on one area and escalators ahead of him, he guessed he would go to the escalators. Much as he'd been desperate to be alone before, the unnatural emptiness of the subway, the mannequin, the way the walls emanated that low droning sound as though he were inside a creature that hummed listlessly as it breathed, it all contributed to this feeling as though he were totally alone. In something worse than hell, some sort of purgatory of abandoned limital areas; places never meant to have anyone in there longer than an hour and never completely by themselves. The comforting lie that the presence a stranger could perpetuate was missing, just emptiness and hostility remained from a place that by design, wanted him to leave. He almost wished Walter was still here. </p>
<p>He stepped onto the escalator and let it carry him down to the subway platform. Noticing that the walls seemed to be made of stretched out skin, half leathered, and huge metal fencing bolted to the wall. It smelled like a factory and charred flesh and not unlike the most morbid barbeque he'd ever had the misfortune of attending. He stood as far away from the wall as possible, he felt his skin crawl and stomach twist up into knots. He tried not to look at it but the only thing ahead of him was darkness with only these small blips of light showing off how slimy and wet the walls were. The temperature dropped as he descended, he could see his breath slightly at one point and he was shivering. He heard a strange sound that seemed to echo down the tunnel, something that sounded like a low moaning cry of sorts that almost came out as a question. Henry squinted to try and see ahead of him, but he couldn't make anything specific out. The noise continued to happen periodically, but he didn't see anything except what seemed to be a large bulbous mound in the wall. Gross, but not dangerous.</p>
<p>He finally reached the bottom of the escalator and found himself on a platform for a subway car, noting the one off to his left parked and empty as everywhere else seemed to be. There were rusted metal bars ahead of him but it only led to what looked like another filled in hole. Along the tracks there was this huge horrible, fleshy tube of pink and brownish meat wriggling through the exit of the subway tunnel, blocking it off. It had veins running through it and it tapered off strangely, in a way he interpreted to be somewhat reminiscent of a very particular body part. He couldn't stop staring at it as it squirmed disgustingly like an excited worm, he felt like he could feel it in his stomach somehow. He shook his head and kept his eyes away from it, disgusted. He walked over towards the train</p>
<p>The inside of the train was, for some reason, squishy and wet. Henry shuddered and immediately got off of the train, he would not be traversing that unless he absolutely had to or maybe found some shoes, not that he wanted to hear the noise. All he could think to do now was walk along the side of the train to try and see if he could locate Walter, though at this point he sort of doubted that he’d be able to meet Henry down here from Lynch Street Line. it didn't seem like they connected, or that this distorted version of the subway station was set up quite the same way. </p>
<p>He wasn't physically tired, his limbs generally as energetic as they usually were, but he was anxious, he felt dirty and like he was constantly looking over his shoulder, he kept having to unclench his jaw, and uncurl his hands from his palms, as both had started to hurt. He didn't have the energy to go over what had led him to this moment mostly because he didn't understand it in the slightest and just knowing that he wouldn't be able to figure it out put him off from thinking it through. He'd been trying to take as much of this in stride as he could, but he was wearing a bit thin. He wanted to go back home, and go to bed and fall asleep and maybe at this point not wake up.</p>
<p>That and he was supposed to work tomorrow. Whenever the hell that even was anymore. </p>
<p>He noticed something out of the corner of his eye off the platform, he squinted trying to make it out as he walked closer but without stepping off the platform, he couldn't see a damn thing but when he looked around he noticed a huge bright as all hell light of some kind resting on a bench and walked over and grabbed it, shining it along the tracks, finally making out what seemed to be a handle of some kind, realizing after a moment that it must go to the train, as he'd seen it many a time before on his various rides. </p>
<p>The train handle rested on the tracks and much as Henry was not interested in risking tetanus or being run over, he couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment so figured he could go and grab it. He got down on his hands and knees and set the light down; he reached as far as he could for it, but his fingers were just short of gracing the handle. So he swung one leg over the edge of the platform and attempted again, hating the feeling of rocks and cold steel on his skin as he reached and finally managed to grasp it. The strain of this on his ribs was a bit painful and he gasped a little but managed to clumsily crawl back up onto the platform. He looked over the handle but realized he had literally no idea what to do with this now. Doing something for no reason and having no idea what to do after or why he'd done this was at least typical. </p>
<p>Standing up, he figured he could at least put this back onto the train, in case anyone needed it. Though he guessed in a dream that didn't matter all that much. Still uncertain if it was a dream or not, he genuinely couldn't decide even as the question proposed itself every few moments while his opinion bounced back and forth more than a particularly aggressive tennis match. He walked inside the head of the train, which was thankfully not wet, though the carpet still felt gross and he wondered why the hell there was carpet on a train, and examined the handle for a moment. He didn't understand most of if not all of the controls but shrugged and replaced the handle where he thought it was meant to be, in a similarly shaped hole. It fit perfectly and there was a sudden click. A horn of some kind went off and Henry looked around confused and startled, while the handle jerked forward. When Henry went to grab it to pull it back, it wouldn't budge. </p>
<p>The subway creaked and jerked forward with a long low groan as if it was breaking free of metal restraints. All of the doors closed and the train slowly chugged forward. Henry began to get nervous as it picked up speed along the tracks. It sounded unstable and he realized he still had no idea where Walter was. There was no time to go back and try to find him, and somehow he felt even more alone than he had before, looking out ahead out of the window as the subway had a sort of mind of its own. </p>
<p>The dark tunnel ahead swallowed the train, plunging him in darkness and Henry was sure he could hear soft thumping against the roof as if something was walking on top of it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Punching In A Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[They'll get through, they'll get you, In the place that you fear it the most//In the corner, where it's warmer//In the face that you wish was a ghost//Wait, I don't ever want to be here//Like punching in a dream breathing life into the nightmare]</p>
<p>the Subway takes Henry and Walter to places they would prefer to leave in the past</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heyy yall coming back to you with alot more of this! im really appreciating all the feedback and comments and stuff so thank you!! stay safe everyone &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The subway had slowed to a stop, and the air had become thicker, yet still cold like one was drinking gallons of iced over lake water everytime they took a breath. He felt like he was wading through invisible snow. Shaken by this he walked out of the subway only to feel grass underneath his feet, looking around he saw that he was in some woods somewhere, though he didn't recognize them, though it was just woods and it wasn't like he spent too much time outdoors, no reason he would recognize them. No, the strange part of it was the subway rails in the middle of the woods behind him, he wondered if he should get back on just to have an anchor to a place he recognized but when he walked closer the doors closed again and the train took off, disappearing into the blackness ahead of it. Henry just sighed. </p>
<p>It was chilly, the grass was slightly damp and Henry figured if he ever got out of here he'd never get warm again, he thought wistfully to the cozyness of warm coffee and loneliness on his couch with an album on, perhaps something like Fleetwood Mac, The Cranberries, David Bowie, something he listened to as a kid against his parents wishes. Comfort was so far away he couldn't help but pine for it.</p>
<p>There were several lamp posts along a dirt path leading to large iron gates. It was night and he could hear crickets chirping and birds in the trees, the lamps were strange, weirdly blooming outwards and the way the light graced everything gave it a strange dream like quality. Henry still bouncing that is it, isn't it, sort of question about whether he was dreaming or not. He followed the path downward to the gate he guessed there was nothing else to do. The gravelly, loose dirt scuffed up his feet, but he didn't want to walk through the grass, not sure of what kind of insects might be there. </p>
<p>He opened the gate, finding more forest but for some reason he appeared to be in a different area of the woods, as it was so disjointed based on how much darker this area was. He heard growling in the distance, a horrible screech, and then silence. The air became thicker, like it was humid but it was far too cold. He felt like he was drowning, and that the woods themselves were watching it happen, something sinister was following him through the trees, there was a thick fog just above the trees like a lid separating it from the rest of the world, he couldn't see the sky no matter how much he wanted to.  </p>
<p>He wondered how long he was going to be wandering this area, maybe another pass through the gate, maybe several hours, maybe forever, it was a morbid thought but he guessed there were much worse places to die than the woods. Uncomfortable as he felt, vulnerable as he was, despite the cold and the sounds and the idea of painfully starving to death, he would much rather die here in the cold forest surrounded by howling wind, completely alone than anything more gruesome. He didn't want to be mauled to death, or to die alone in his house, or even something fast like a car crash or fall. He would much rather decay alone and abandoned in the woods somewhere. It sounded peaceful. </p>
<p>He entered the next gated area, this place much worse than before, there were strange cages hanging from the trees, with small figures in them that appeared to be child sized, all being hung by the throat to the bars above them. There was some kind of trap in the middle of the path that had already been triggered, as he approached he saw that it was possibly the body of what appeared to be a rotting dog. He grimaced and shook his head, it was disgusting, and smelled awful and he didn't want to think about it more than he had to, straying from the path only enough to avoid the corpse. He guessed it was only a matter of time before, wherever the hell he was, decided to show him something else horrible. All things considered, it wasn't the worst thing, much as it turned his stomach.</p>
<p>The next area was slightly more lit, there was a torch burning around a fallen log and it offered some more respite to the darkness than the lampposts. There was an incredibly familiar man sitting on the log, biting his nails and fidgeting with his hands, still wearing jeans with an oversized black t-shirt, a green circle with a dash through it on the front, though Henry had no idea what that could mean or reference. He couldn't help the slight relief at seeing another human being, especially one he already knew.</p>
<p>“H-hey it's y-you. H-h-henry right?” Jasper waved and Henry made his way closer to him. </p>
<p>“Yeah...what are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“I d-don't know, m-man. I just-just woke up in-in th-the woods.” Jasper shrugged, taking some cigarettes out of his pocket, it occurred to Henry it had been hours at least since he had one himself. “H-hey you, you got a l-light man?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah..” Henry dug into his pockets and pulled one out, handing it off to Jasper. Why he had a lighter in the pockets of his pajamas was a mystery to him, he usually kept them in a drawer in his kitchen but at this point they were definitely hidden all around his house so he guessed it didn't matter.</p>
<p>“Th-thanks, You w-want one m-man? I dunno if-if-if you sm-smoke but..”</p>
<p>“Yeah I do...”</p>
<p>Jasper offered the little cylinder, and Henry took it sitting down next to him on the fallen branch, maybe a little too close, lighting it and the calming smoke in his lungs felt quite real. They were quiet for a few minutes, Jasper muttered to himself, but far too lightly for Henry to hear, he really preferred that, he couldn't help but not want to communicate. He just wanted to think and put himself in the company of someone else so he didn't feel so alone and scared. He was still scared sure, however, if Japser could see or hear anything then at the very least Henry would know he wasn't crazy. </p>
<p>The smoke from his cigarette and the sight breeze pushed it into his face while he took oddly shaky breaths. His stomach hurt but it wasn't his main priority at the moment. The woods were strange and unruly, even this area with just a burning torch and strange fences gave him very strange feelings, he had no idea why or what the feeling was. It was like there were hands reaching out to him in the darkness and trying to get a grip on his mind. He didn't understand what they were trying to say to him, and he was frustrated and concerned by it.</p>
<p>“Y-you alright m-man?” Jasper asked after what felt like forever, “you l-look real, up-upset.”</p>
<p>“...i don't really know.” </p>
<p>“Yeah i-i b-bet. I dunno wh-why you're, h-h-here. You d-don't have any r-reason to b-be here. It's n-not t-time y-yet…” Jasper muttered, “i d-don't th-think you h-have to-to anything but-but witness…”</p>
<p>“...What do you mean?” Henry asked him, baffled by whatever he was talking about. </p>
<p>“I c-can't explain it, you-you’ll h-have to just s-see. I c-can't t-tell you wh-what is gonna h-happen but...something is..” Jasper said, "You're j-just the-the witness.” </p>
<p>“Witness...hm..” Henry sighed, rubbing his head and sighing, Jasper seemed nice at least but good lord he was difficult both to parse and Henry couldn't seem to figure him out. He figured he could ask him questions, his expression was nothing that he could very easily decipher, a code as many people could be to him. </p>
<p>“uhm...Jasper..how, how did you know my name..”</p>
<p>“Wh-what do ya mu-mean?” Jasper frowned, and Henry noticed for possibly the first time that he didn't have eyebrows. It was inconsequential but it seemed strange to him that he'd never noted it before. “Yuh-you t-told me ri-right?” </p>
<p>“No...i didn't. You told me your name but..but i never said…”</p>
<p>“Th-then it...it had t-to be a-a vision.” Jasper shrugged as if that was the most logical answer. Henry guessed it might've been normal for Jasper at least. He pondered what being this man must be like, something he’d long since given up trying to understand with other people. </p>
<p>“...well alright.” Henry sighed a little, “i...i really don't understand..whats going on right now. I thought I was dreaming. But this all feels real.”</p>
<p>“I-it's both m-man.” Jasper said, once again as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “D-dreams..are as-as real as th-this p-p-place wants it t-to be.” </p>
<p>“...how do you know all this stuff?”</p>
<p>“Research. Th-there was a-a cuh-crazy cult th-thatss involved in-in all th-this stuff. Th-there an orphanage n-near here, th-thats also in-involved. S-silent h-hill is, it muh-makes stuff h-h-happen around h-here. You-you an muh-me are p-part of all of th-this. Dreams. Vuh-visions. Th-theres so muh-much we c-can't understand y-yet, c-cus it's n-not time y-y-yet.” Jasper waved his hands erratically, the nearly finished cigarette hanging out of his mouth periolously as though it may fall out with how animated he was. </p>
<p>“a ..cult? Jasper i..i don't get it…” Henry shook his head again, he felt like he was grasping at any hint Jasper accidentally let out in his confusing word salad. Time? For what? An orphanage? What did that have to do with anything? Silent hill? Well somehow that wasn't too surprising, yet when he thought about it logically he didn't understand why he thought it wasn't weird. He didn't think Jasper, as vaguely friendly as he was, would give him any real help. Maybe he wanted to be helpful, but he was unsuccessful. </p>
<p>“Y-you will. I'm-i'm sure of it.” Jasper whispered, flicking ashes off of his cigarette and glancing around nervously. “W-we’ll both s-see. J-just like B-bobby, n S-s-sein saw..”</p>
<p>Henry was a little too unnerved to ask who he was talking about, it seemed somewhat personal to him as somewhere in his anxious eyes was a painful memory. He tried to think about anything he'd just been told, but all that was coming up was a fuzzy feeling in his brain as if he didn't want to process any more information, like his cognitive processes just turned off and refused. Helpful. Very helpful. He sighed and put out the butt of the cigarette, just holding onto it as he didn't want to toss it into the dirt for some animal to eat, if there were any animals around here at all. </p>
<p>After a moment Jasper suddenly pointed off into the darkness, like a dog pointing its master in the direction of an animal. There was a shadow approaching from afar but he couldn't make out any details of this person, or thing, as it slouched forward menacingly. Slowly, deliberately it approached and Henry became scared, unable to force himself to move from his spot, he couldn't see any further than a few feet as the torch had slowly burnt out due to the wind. </p>
<p>“It's him. The devil.” Jasper whispered, his stuttering gone.</p>
<p>The figure in the shadows emerged with his hands raised, blonde locks with scraps of leaves and dirt in it, messier than normal. His brown pants stained with blood, Walter looked like he’d been through the wringer. He was clearly tense and the relief of seeing other people was palpable. </p>
<p>“Henry, i'm glad to see you.” He smiled widely, looking even more tired than normal, Henry just nodded, Jasper suddenly had gone back to his routine muttering and picking at his fingers as though nothing had happened. Henry was not quite as relaxed, but admittedly glad it was just him and not someone or thing else. </p>
<p>“Were did you go? How-how did you even get here?”</p>
<p>“Can't say, I went through...a highway I think...there was a subway train…” Walter murmured, a lost look in his eyes, Henry for once didn't think he was omitting the truth on purpose. But he was still omitting the truth.</p>
<p>“Ok.” Henry just nodded blankly and Walter looked uncomfortable, Henry wasn't interested in making the effort to pass as a well adjusted person, someone Walter could relate to and understand. He didn't know why that would bring him any comfort being that he was even stranger than Henry was. Maybe that was just how Henry saw him, maybe Henry was the strange one. </p>
<p>“Well, anyway uhm, I think we need to get out of here. This wasn't...where i thought we’d end up and...i don't wanna stay here any longer than we have to.” Walter shifted on his feet, and he flinched when he heard a noise off in the distance. </p>
<p>“So...what do you..think we should do.” Henry asked after a moment, as Walter was not speaking, as though he were lost here, and couldn't come back down to earth to communicate.  </p>
<p>“We should find another hole. It's...not safe here. Maybe we can get back into your apartment, and rethink everything from there.” Walter stated, his tone flat, his default expression looked more like some kind of grimace. He seemed uncomfortable and he was picking at his fingers. Henry just sighed and stood up, what choice did he really have, and with the blood on Walter's clothes he might need someone to watch over him, prevent him from doing something. He glanced over at his other companion, who wasn't paying any attention to them and Henry realized he would feel much better about being coupled with his new neighbor if the other stranger went along with him. Sure if it came down to it, Jasper and Himself together would likely have no chance against Walter but, there was still some comfort in numbers. </p>
<p>“Jasper...uhm...do you want to come with us?” </p>
<p>“Wh-what? Oh n-no, i g-gotta st-stay here m-man. i-i got something i gotta-gotta do here. Anyways, it's all just-just a dream.” Jasper muttered, biting his nails, he seemed scared of Walter. That didn't bode well for Henry but he didn't think he had another choice. </p>
<p>“Ok well...ill see you around..”</p>
<p>“Be-be safe H-henry.” was all Jasper said in an empty, hollow sort of voice. Henry couldn't help glancing back at him as he walked away. His last tether to someone he could, begrudgingly, trust. </p>
<p>They entered another area of the woods that sloped upwards, it was nothing particularly special about it still eerie and offputting. Walter led the way and was uncharacteristically jumpy and nervous looking, like something would attack him if he wasn't on high alert. It was bizarre to see such a large, imposing man acting like a scared child in a haunted house. Henry didn't know what to make of it but it didn't raise his spirits. He was unnerved, still scared of Walter if he was honest, he spoke so strangely, moved strangely, he knew things he wasn't saying, he said very little, and seemed like he was always watching, always observing his surroundings and the people in them. Looking for details, looking for information, on high alert for no discernible reason. Henry realized suddenly that he recognized a lot of these traits in the only person he knew well, he shook it from his mind. The difference, the all important difference, was that Henry refused to try and bother other people with his presence. Maybe that was the thing that aggravated him the most about Walter. </p>
<p>The trees cleared a little displaying a large cave with more torches in front of it, Walter had stopped briefly looking around as if intimidated by it, Henry watched him sigh and shut his eyes tightly and then open them again. Henry watched his nervous tics and demeanor with something like fascination, in a morbid sort of sense; whatever Walter did to mask his expression in an unintentionally creepy and calm demeanor, was gone and he seemed much more normal now, not that Henry cared for normal people. </p>
<p>The tunnel was oddly lit but still foreboding, huge machinery and dangerously hanging metal and tools lay strewn about, dusty abandoned material littered the ground and Henry had to be careful to avoid any metal or glass along the road, as there was a lot of it. </p>
<p>He noticed a huge pickaxe off to the side of the area, laying on the ground in front of a metal gate, a figure wrapped in a sheet pinned to the wall behind the gate, blood dripped from the body slowly, Henry could hear the metal of the beams around him creaking and straining under the weight of both the aging machinery and time itself. He wondered what a pickaxe could be doing here with all this relatively modern machinery sure it was old and rusted now but it at least made more sense than this archaic tool. Looking at it, and was assuredly a body hanging against the wall, made him feel sick, so he ripped his eyes from it, noticing Walter was pointedly looking away. </p>
<p>They made their way out of the cave, cold air whipping through Henry’s hair and he had to push it out of his eyes. They were on a cliff overlooking the lake, a shoddy fence preventing anyone from falling off into the hostile lake water. There were a handful of headstones in the area, all of the names mostly scratched out, the only one that remained in any legibility was some J name, but it was too dark to sit there and squint at it. </p>
<p>The other notable thing besides the dense fog rising from the lake, was the large unnaturally circular hole in the stone, flanked by a torch with odd symbols painted in red along the edge of the hole.</p>
<p>“Here. another hole. Hopefully we can...can make it back to your apartment…” Walter murmured </p>
<p>“Yeah...hopfully.” Henry murmured, he glanced back at Walter as he approached the hole, he swore he could hear a car, and dogs barking loudly, snarling echoing through the hole. He decided that he'd go through first hoping he'd end up in his apartment again, he didn't want Walter snooping around again. </p>
<p>“I'm...ill go through first.” Henry took a deep breath, “ill...ill see you uh..on the other side I guess.” He looked back at Walter again who nodded. Henry closed his eyes and crawled into the hole, much the same as before, except this time it smelled of oil and charcoal, a soft summer breeze through the tunnel that chilled him to the bone. The tunnel was no longer wet, dusty instead scraping the palms of his hands, his knees becoming sore as he crawled. The light became brighter again. And he braced himself for the shock of waking up. Praying that he would wake up in his bathroom.</p>
<p>He didn't know why he bothered praying, they'd never been answered before. </p>
<p>He awoke to the choking smell of gasoline, his back pressed against the concrete, the sky was a muddy grey color and when his vision corrected itself from the spinning world  he thought he saw some kind of huge bird circle his body, when he saw up, the bird flew off. It unsettled him. </p>
<p>He was laying in the middle of a street full of potholes and cracks, failed businesses along the road including an old fast food place, mattress store, antique store among others. The only place that could've been open was a laundromat with several lights missing on the inside. The whole area was decrepit and unsettling but mostly sad. Looking around he noticed a figure lying facedown on the concrete, a figure that was clearly Walter as who the hell else could it be. Henry stood and quickly walked over to him, reaching over and lightly tapping his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Walter? Hey...are you ok?” </p>
<p>“Hm?” Walter stirred and looked around, clearly confused, his eyes flicked up to Henry and he seemed to remember what was going on, sitting up and looking around, examining the area in his methodical calculated way. “Huh. well...this isn't your apartment.”</p>
<p>“No.” Henry wasn't great with jokes, <em> lighten up, learn to take a damn joke. God almighty you're no damn fun</em> , old words spoken many times when he wouldn't laugh and perform in his own home. Why had he thought of that? Strange, he hadn't considered it in two years. He walked over to where Walter had also stood and was frowning. </p>
<p>“Where are we?”</p>
<p>“Well...before we were in the woods near Silent Hill. But it's changed now, I don't think we're in Silent Hill. I've never seen an area like this there and I'm not sure where this road leads. we’re not in the real world.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean real world?”</p>
<p>“..well..well you didn't think we were anywhere that was real right?” Walter attempted as presumably a way to defend him knowing this. Henry only frowned being completely baffled by this statement. He deliberated with himself but figured Walter did sort of have a point. Though the desire to admit this was less than zero. </p>
<p>“...what kind of world are we in then?”</p>
<p>“I...believe it's some sort of dream world... a..manifestation of the things people have seen and experienced….” Walter said this much in the same way Jasper had spoken before, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. </p>
<p>“That's...weird.” Henry murmured, put off by how specific he was when he described it. He couldn't have come up with that all in the last hour or so right? </p>
<p>“Yes it is. But it's true. At least, I think it is.” Walter nodded, looking around, "I'm not crazy, though many people are..inclined to disagree.”</p>
<p>“...right.” Henry glanced around himself, while he couldn't be certain there was a creeping familiarity with this area, one he couldn't seem to put his finger on like a memory one remembered having without remembering what the memory actually was. The familiarity was unnerving, and somewhat painful as he knew he was forgetting something, something important, something that was deeply buried in the mind that didn't forget but tried as hard as it could anyways. </p>
<p>“But it shouldn't be here. The town is too far away…”Walter murmured to himself just loud enough to distract Henry from the equivalent of dusting off old boxes in the attic of his mind. </p>
<p>“What town?” Henry asked him, Walter took a moment to answer as he turned on his heel to the left. Henry confused and startled began to follow him down a street that had more boarded up shops and forgotten cars overtaken by foliage and dust, not unlike a movie he remembered seeing not long ago where a little girl was whisked away on an adventure to come back and find her parent's car left to the woods, like that except far more sinister and lonely. All of the plants on these cars were dead. </p>
<p>“Henry, what do you know about Silent Hill?”</p>
<p>“...nothing really.” Henry answered, a bit miffed he hadn't answered his previous question in a more direct manner. </p>
<p>“Humor me would you?” Walter asked, “just...tell me what Silent Hill means to you. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.” </p>
<p>“...well alright.” Henry sighed and shrugged, deeply uncomfortable now, "I, uhm, just used to visit there as a kid with my...parents. Visited the amusement park and...well before it burned down we would stay in a big hotel there. I liked the lake, there's nothing that interesting about it.”</p>
<p>“You had photos of it in your home.” Walter said, once again stating it and not asking, “The Balkan church, Toluca Lake, the lighthouse too.”</p>
<p>“...i liked to go there to take pictures. I thought the church looked nice, the lake is pretty. That's about it.” he replied, wondering why it mattered, and being a little surprised that he was able to identify the particular church in the picture. He personally only barely remembered the part of Silent Hill he'd been wandering around that day, he thought it might've been Old Silent Hill but he hadn't really cared enough to remember it. </p>
<p>“Fair enough.” Walter sighed, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched as he seemed to be deep in thought. “Henry, have you ever felt...a sort of pull to that town? A sort of...strong desire to go there, to become one with the town to go somewhere specific there, a pull like you need to be there or else something bad will happen? Is there...a comfort in the idea of going there and staying there?” </p>
<p>Henry was quiet for a few moments, he didn't know why but that phrasing, the way he'd said it had rung a bell in the back of his mind, he did know what he was talking about, he knew exactly what he was talking about and he can't believe he hadn't realized it before. Maybe he hadn't wanted to, maybe it had just seemed absurd, regardless he understood the pull, the whisperings of the town to go there, but when he'd gone it hadn't been enough the town itself had been restless, like it wasn't enough just to have him there, like he had to do something, see something. It scared the hell out of him now that he considered it and he didn't want to consider it any longer. But what was he supposed to say to Walter, he didn't want to be truthful, that Walter even asked, and asked it in such a specific way, well he couldn't help but be resentful.</p>
<p>“No. I don't know what you mean, i don't have that much of an attachment to Silent Hill.” he said quietly.</p>
<p>“Herny i really, really need you to be truthful here.”Walter stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his back still turned to him, his voice was calm and polite as ever but there was an undertone to it, one of urgency, one that if he searched for it had the very vaguest hints of a threat. Henry knew he was right not to trust him. </p>
<p>“Why do you think I'm not.” Henry replied, tone bland but cold. </p>
<p>Walter turned and looked at him. No smile, no real expression, that penetrating analytical gaze running over Henry time and time again as if trying to figure out if he was lying or not. Henry showed no sign of flinching. His mask was well forged in what had felt like hellfire and Walter of all people was not someone who was going to break him. </p>
<p>“Alright. I'm not accusing you, I just needed to know. I needed to know if my..theory was right. I guess it wasn't.” Walter replied calmly, turning again and continuing down the sidewalk. There was a tension in the air, but neither of them tried to break it for a good several minutes. </p>
<p>“I do have to wonder where we are. Do..do you remember this place?” Walter asked him eventually, voice more amicable but strained as if he was somewhat afraid of Henry. </p>
<p>“No. I don't.” Henry lied again, truthfully it was familiar, but he didn't understand why and didn't want to get into it with Walter. </p>
<p>“Hm well, it looks like it was nice once.” Walter continued, trying as best as he could to make light casual conversation. “Buisnesses like these are sort of cute, kind of reminds me of my job a little. Very..small shop, Mr. Albert is usually pretty nice, don't know what he thinks about me but, i try my best.” he rambled on, almost nonsensically as if it were a nervous habit to talk too much. Henry occasionally made a noncommittal noise to acknowledge him, he sort of wished he'd just tell him what the plan was so they could separate quicker, this was getting tiresome. </p>
<p>“Silent Hill has alot of shops like that,” he said after a moment while they both avoided a strange crater in the road, the businesses were thinning out a little bit and they were approaching shoddy apartments and corner shops, they passed a sign that showed the school was near, Henry took the lead then and walked in the other direction. </p>
<p>“Have you ever...been to any of those shops in silent hill? I..i never visited a lot of them but i did like the small Antique store and Mall, even though I couldn't really buy anything.” Walter asked as they avoided a broken fence in the road. Henry was getting tired of him talking, now was not the time for small talk, not when God only knew where they were or why they were here. He hung back for a second to dust rocks off his feet before he answered him. </p>
<p>“Sure but...thought you said you wouldn't ask if it wasn't important?”</p>
<p>“Well I think it's important that friends know things about each other.” </p>
<p>“Hm.” was all Henry could reply with, still deeply uncomfortable, like worms in his gut wiggling as though speaking up about anything even within the realm of personal information allowed them to slitherer inside his mouth. </p>
<p>“...we’re not friends are we.” It wasn't really a question, he didn't even turn to receive the answer. There was a finality in how he said it. Henry didn't say anything either. What was supposed to be merciful silence was now uncomfortable, Henry felt terrible. </p>
<p>The car tunnel ahead of them was dark and empty, a huge concrete tunnel with all sorts of graffiti along it, most of it Henry couldn't understand in the slightest. He made out several slurs, what was a crude approximation of a pot leaf, and a few advertisements for the solicitation of “fun sluts” who apparently would do quite crude things for alcohol or petty cash. He sort of doubted that was true. </p>
<p>The other end of the tunnel hit Henry with recognition so abrupt it was like a punch to the gut. He knew where they were. </p>
<p>“Looks like a neighborhood,” Walter commented nervously. “Not..not a very nice one though.” </p>
<p>“No.” Henry took a deep breath, trying to push back the memories and hold his head high, as if he weren't afraid, as if this place didn't hurt to be in. </p>
<p>
  <em> “what were you doing there? I told you a million times not to go anywhere near there how hard is that to get through your thick skull”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me, don't try that pathetic ‘i can't talk’ bullshit with me i'm sick of it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Quit your crying right now or I'll give you something to cry about.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Henry?” Walter looked at him and Henry just shook his head.</p>
<p>“Lets get out of here. I don't ...like it.” He stated and Walter just nodded as they kept walking forward, avoiding the glass in the road.</p>
<p>A sign ahead on the side of the road read <em>‘Will You Go To Heaven When You Die?’</em> and Henry avoided looking at it as if he already knew the answer. </p>
<p>They approached a large blockade of broken road and smashed vehicles, Henry looked around it and saw only a deep pit, he guessed they weren't going there. Walter wandered to the closest street and Henry went to follow him until he saw the name of the street, and one of the decrepit houses on the side near the smashed sidewalk. He froze in his tracks, heart thumping against his chest. Memories flooding back to him, Henry feeling a blended cluster of emotions at being back here of all places after two years of him thinking he was free. </p>
<p>“This looks like we could…”</p>
<p>“I'm not going this way.” Henry stated firmly, his too long nails dug into his palm, so hard that drawing blood wasn't out of the question. Walter looked over at him, confused.</p>
<p>“But..well where else are we going to go?”</p>
<p>“Anywhere else. Not here though. Not this way.”</p>
<p>“If you're scared I could maybe go in and try and scope it out or..”</p>
<p>“Nobody needs to go this way.” He glared at Walter as threateningly as he could, and though he doubted that he was actually scary, Walter did look intimidated. </p>
<p>“...oh well...alright.” He cleared his throat and turned his head away from the street, “i..i uhm..where should we..”</p>
<p>“Just..down this alley is fine.” Henry said swallowing the panic in his chest, he could hear the barking of dogs and wanted to put as much distance between himself and this particular street as he could. He turned and strode down it as fast as he could, the ally led behind several houses, the gravel road hurt under his feet but he couldn't care, he didn't even look behind him to see if Walter was there until he ended up near a very depressing public playground, chains on the one swingset snapped, and the basketball hoops also missing, he paused to try and catch his breath and think. Walter caught up to him looking confused and concerned, but when he was within a few feet of Henry he stopped and just furrowed his brow. </p>
<p>“Sorry.” Henry said flatly, "let's just...get out of the neighborhood.” He turned to head down another, longer alley, if he remembered right it would lead them back to a more small town area of the neighborhood, near grocery stores and the post office. </p>
<p>“Right right uhm..Henry?” Walter asked timidly, fingers intertwined in his signature submissive nervous pose, “ you know...i if you want to there, you can tell me about...how you're feeling or,or anything i'm fine with it really,” Henry stared at him for a few moments before deciding what to say.</p>
<p>“I've said as much as I want to. It's nothing personal.” With that fun blend of truth and lie, Henry proceeded down the longer alley between several rows of houses. Walter didn't answer but continued on behind him after a moment's pause.</p>
<p>They walked in silence, Henry suddenly feeling some sort of presence here, something watching him, not completely unlike when he was in his home anymore. Rustling of foliage, another few steps, the creak of a fence, another few steps, a strange chattering noise. They both stopped dead just ahead at the very end of the alley, a figure approached. Henry’s eyes windened in disbelief. </p>
<p>It was the monster from his drawings, nearly as tall as Henry himself, bits of flesh falling to the floor, the low whispering and chattering sounds it made graced his ears like a curse, it dragged its hands on the ground as it walked. Henry froze staring at it as all six of its eyes locked onto him and it began to laugh, the teeth on its throat chattering, while it was walking closer; it's laughter getting louder and more hysterical and Henry couldn't do anything but stand there as it approached him with the intent to kill, it was making fun of him. It could see him, it hated him, it wanted to hurt him. Fixated on its goal it picked up speed and Henry could only begin to panic.</p>
<p>“Henry, Henry we need to go, now.” Walter called to him, grabbing his arm and shaking him but no matter how much he or Henry’s own mind protested he couldn't move, overcome by terror he couldn't force air in or out of his lungs like he was trying to blow up a balloon that was being crushed with a ten pound weight. Walters' hands moved away, and all Henry could do was make direct eye contact with the creature now practically sprinting down the alleyway to reach him.</p>
<p>Suddenly he was shoved to the ground with only the sound of whatever air had been left in his lungs escaping. The creature kept its eyes on him while he tried to figure out which way was up, he could see Walter make his way around the monster and very briefly figured he was being abandoned, used as bait. It had no interest in Walter after all so why would he stay. Despite the fearful whimpering that escaped him, Henry began to accept his own death, he just hoped it would be quick.</p>
<p>There was a glint of something shiny and in disbelief Henry watched Walter grab the thing from behind and stab it directly in one of its eyes, the scream that escaped it was like several children shrieking at once, but Walter did not hesitate. Ripping what appeared to be a knife out of the creature's eye that was now leaking blood and puss, he stabbed it in the back of the neck, and then again in the spine and when it turned to attack he dodged getting smacked with a hand to plunge the knife into its ribcage, the unholy howls growing louder, its arms thrashing wildly, until it collapsed at his feet. </p>
<p>Walter stood over the creature, and then reached to pull the knife out of it, only for it to begin twitching and crying in a grown man's voice. Seemingly unbothered, Walter turned and walked off about five feet, locating a cinderblock and hefting it to about his chest level before walking, firmly and deliberately towards the monster, Henry realizing what he was about to do just as he raised it over his head, and thankfully he managed to rip his eyes from the scene and shut them, hearing a sickening splatter and crunch of bone, with one last feeble howl dissipating into the air. </p>
<p>He took a moment to brace himself for what he would see but when he opened his eyes, he still couldn't help wanting to vomit. It's caved in skull looked far too human. Blood dripped off of the cinderblock where it had splattered upwards from the force of the impact.</p>
<p>Walter approached him, hands and clothing covered in splatters of blood of varying degrees of thickness, he put the pocket knife away, but didn't clean it off, his hair covered most of his face giving him an overall threatening appearance that he must not have been completely aware of. </p>
<p>“Henry?” Walter went to reach for him but only then seemed to realize his hands were soaked with blood, before he retracted them, “are you alright?”</p>
<p>Henry opened his mouth to speak and closed it again with only a nod as he couldn't seem to force his voice to work, he'd only just started breathing again. </p>
<p>“It's dead. Don't worry about it Henry.” Walter said calmly, his tone was meant to be soothing but Henry couldn't be comforted by anything, not with a body so close to him, even if it was a monster. He managed to get himself to his feet albeit shakily, and he tried to process his surroundings.</p>
<p>“Come on, let's get away from here ok.” Walter continued offering his hand, Henry didn't take it, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, hunched over and shaking. Walter took a few steps forward and Henry followed him slowly, avoiding the body, and trying to leave it in the ally. He was sore, and cold, and still so scared. </p>
<p>After several minutes of them walking down the alley and into the street, and Henry having recognized more areas of the neighborhood, was feeling dizzy and slightly ill. He was certain he could hear dogs, shouting of people, and crying. Walter didn't seem to hear this as he didn't react and Henry felt like he was losing his grip on reality, he was breathing heavily and his stomach was in knots. </p>
<p>Walter eventually stopped in front of a completely abandoned grocery store building, halfway boarded up and decaying. Henry nearly ran into him from how confused he felt he wasn't paying attention just replying memories in his head like a broken, skipping CD player. Walter glanced at him and then back at the store as if thinking.</p>
<p>“I think we should go in there.” He pointed at the store, “you look sick, and maybe we can find something in there that...might help you.” He suggested, Henry just nodded vaguely, figuring he would just have to trust that Walter was either going to help him, or that he was finally vulnerable to being taken advantage of or hurt and there wasn't much he was able to do about it. </p>
<p>They made their way over the store and Walter glanced around the entrance for a few moments before removing a huge piece of wood from in front of the door and with a grunt shoved apart the previously stuck doors that had once slid open they creaked and bent, but Walter barely seemed to strain himself and casually picked some splinters out his hand. Henry couldn't really process how damn strong he must have been to do this, he simply tried to follow him before Walter stopped him gesturing to the shattered glass on the ground. Walter looked around and located a loose plywood board on the windows, grabbing the edge and ripping it off of the window effortlessly, laying it over the glass like a rug of some kind. </p>
<p>“It's not great but I would rather pull a couple of splinters out of my skin than glass.” Walter explained, with some hints of a joke. Henry nodded but was unable to fake any sort of humor. Walter's half smile sort of faded, but he continued on anyways. Offering his hand to help him over the makeshift bridge, Henry just shook his head, lightly grasping the glassless sides of the doorway and walking unsteadily over the hazards. </p>
<p>“Well...i think, we should look around, i don't think there's anything in here, i can't hear anything anyways..” Walter rambled as he glanced around the decrepit building with shelves falling over, “you can stay here if you need to, I just want to look around.”</p>
<p>“N-no that's fine. I'll look..around the other side.” Henry managed to whisper, Walter took a moment before nodding as if he needed it to understand what Henry had said, but when he had, he turned and carefully made his way to one side of what was once a store. Henry sighing and walking the opposite way.</p>
<p>A brief search through the decrepit building showed nothing of interest, but in the time they were briefly away from one another, Henry was able to calm down lightly, breathing in and out slowly as he blankly searched the smashed isles for nothing as he really wasn't sure what they were looking for. He forgot what Walter had said, but he guessed it didn't matter as there wasn't anything here anyways. At least the store wasn't familiar, or at least not as familiar as anything else had been. This was a perfectly average grocery store with nothing distinguishing about it, and thus he felt nothing while he was in here. </p>
<p>After rounding the area, he and Walter reconvened in front of what might've been an office for the store, Walter with a light cut on his palm but nothing serious. </p>
<p>“Didn't find anything, at all really, i could've sworn i felt...something..” Walter murmured and shook his head, “what about you?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.” Henry confirmed and Walter sighed, running the non-bloody hand through his hair, leaves still stuck in it falling out. “I'm fine but,Maybe the office will have something, maybe...i dunno first aid kit for your hand.” He pointed it out and Walter had an indescribable expression on his face, but then nodded, turning to jiggle the loose handle that didn't do much to open the door. Walter hummed in disapproval but Henry had an idea, turning around and managing to find a long sturdy board. Picking it up he took the skinnier end and jammed it in the small slot where the handle was loose connecting the wood door to the rusting handle. He leaned his body against the wood, working it and trying to pop it out of the door. With a bit more messing around and throwing his whole weight against the board, the knob popped out of the door, and clattered to the floor.</p>
<p>“There we go.” Henry started with heavy breathing. </p>
<p>“...well, good job Henry. Pretty..pretty clever.” Walter smiled again, and Henry nodded in acknowledgment, Walter’s smile didn falter as much as before, but the little bit it did sort of made him feel bad. </p>
<p>They slowly pushed open the door to the dark office, there was mold and filth all over the floor and walls, a computer chair snapped in half on the floor and the computer that had been smashed. Most importantly, there was another holeon one side of the small office. The red symbols along the sides of the wall seemed to glow. They both stood and looked at it for a moment.</p>
<p>“Do you think this will work this time?” Henry whispered, he sounded far more vulnerable than he'd ever wanted to in front of Walter, but he couldn't help it. Not now. </p>
<p>“....i don't want to jinx it.” Walter said quietly, eyes unfocused on the hole in the wall. Henry couldn't hear anything coming from it. His sigh was shaky, his body still felt uncertain as he attempted to block everything out. Focus on the hole. It's the only lead they had. </p>
<p>He crawled inside for a third time, closing his eyes the whole way through, he felt warmth, like a heater was blasting in his face as he made his way through it. He felt his mind slowly slip from him as he kept crawling ahead. Peaceful emptiness filled his thoughts. </p>
<p>He slowly blinked awake to sunlight streaming in front the windows of his living room, he lay there somewhat numb for a minute, but when he sat up he was on his couch. A numbness in his body. </p>
<p>It was his home. Completely normal. The door was unchained, and when he stood slowly and opened it there was nothing off about it or the hallway. He checked the windows, all of them opened and he left them that way to allow a breeze inside. Everything was just how he'd left it. He breathed a sigh of relief, and realized as he slowly relaxed that he was exhausted, more than exhausted, and his feet hurt and so did his shoulder and side. He checked over his body lightly, glad to finally feel like he wasn't being watched, and saw long bruises along his side. But that was fine, he could live with that. Just some bruises. Besides all that, his head hurt but he was so happy to be home he barely cared, he felt delirious, like he was drunk or high. </p>
<p>Knowing he had to somehow get back to normal, he went to check the time. Unfortunately the clock had stopped, and he couldn't help a small jolt of fear before he told himself that he’d had this clock for years and likely it had just broken or run out of batteries or something normal like that. He looked out the window and it appeared to be morning based on what he could see of the sun. </p>
<p>Maybe he could just call out of work, he'd never done it before so it would probably be fine, napping would at least be an option. Regardless, he decided to clean himself off and make his decision afterwards. And then he remembered the hole in his bathroom and rushed in there only to find, nothing. The bathroom was just as it should be. No hole, no chunks of wall on the floor, no shattered mirror or sink. Just his normal dark bathroom. </p>
<p>Even more relieved, hoping it was all just a really weird dream, filth on his body and bruises on his side be damned,  everything was normal, everything was fine. </p>
<p>He went to turn on the water and take a shower, ready to rid himself of most of the evidence of his adventure so he could pretend it had never happened, even though part of him was worried for Walter, and Jasper who he'd left behind. Even if he couldn't fully get the image of the monster out of his mind, the way its body contorted and was twisted in agony on the ground. No, don't think about that, just think of how nice the water would feel in just a moment</p>
<p>He heard a whispering voice and he froze, his shirt halfway over his head, it was whispering and raspy. He waited to hear something else, maybe he'd imagined it or maybe-</p>
<p>
  <em>“Henry Townshend.”</em>
</p>
<p>The voice made his heart stop like it's been grabbed by a hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lithium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[I'm so happy because today I've found my friends//They're in my head//I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cause so are you We've broken our mirrors//Sunday morning is everyday for all I care And I'm not scared]</p><p>Henry meets yet another uninvited guest.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>been a little busy/tired but! I've managed some more for you and I'm really excited  for what comes next!!<br/>i love all the comments and i try to respond to as many as i can so thank you!!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry whipped around and scanned the bathroom as quickly as he could, there was nothing there but he could feel a dark presence growing inside him and around him. His ragged breathing and the slow drip of water from the tub faucet that always leaked once he turned it off, was the only thing he could hear. His heart began to calm itself as he tried to decide whether he'd imagined it or not, until he heard the voice again.</p><p>“Townshend. Are you there?” </p><p>He stared into the mirror, completely baffled as he watched his reflection shift and contort until a black shadowy figure appeared in the glass, replacing him in the mirror as if he were looking into a TV or something. The figure was shorter than him and undefined mostly, a black void in the shape of a person, the rest of the mirror displayed the reflection of the bathroom, but odd and more colorless than normal. </p><p>“W..what the hell?”</p><p>“Good. you can hear me.” The voice, or figure or whatever the hell said, "I have been trying to get into contact with you, seeing as you keep ignoring my letters, evidently you do not follow instructions. Or perhaps you think you're smarter than me, and now you've put yourself in even more danger than before.”</p><p>“Wh..wait wait who are you?” Henry shook his head confused and still somewhat scared of what was going on. He didn't even have the capacity to acknowledge the slight jabs at him, though he was glad he was dressed again. “How...i mean..what are you even talking about…” The figure gave a long irritated sigh.</p><p>“I sent you letters, Townshend, I told you what was happening, about the town, about the cult, I told you to stay away from Walter Sullivan and you have been practically teaming up with him, I couldn't communicate with you in that dream world with him around.”</p><p>Henry was just frowning trying to figure out what he was talking about until he remembered the red letters now carefully pasted to his scrapbook pages immortalized but undeciphered, and things began to piece themselves together. </p><p>“You're...Joseph?”</p><p>“...yes.” Joseph said through what sounded like gritted teeth, "I am. And you, Townshend, are still in danger. I tried to help you, and you clearly need the help, but you haven't been listening..and now you're travelling to these dream worlds and in real danger of being killed, this is serious Townshend.”</p><p>“...you can call me Henry.” was all he couldn't think to say, Joseph wasn't yelling but his tone was that of an adult scolding a child, and Henry, who was adjusting to this as best as he could, became resentful. </p><p>“My accommodations to whatever you have going on here have done nothing to motivate you to listen to me, I don't see a point in indulging in that when there's more important things at stake.” </p><p>“Then why do you care if I die or not.” Henry replied coolly, “since you don't care what my name is.”</p><p>“...because frankly, Henry, you are my only hope. And the only hope for a lot of other people as well.” Joseph appeared to be backpedaling but Henry legitimately couldn't tell, he hated how much control Joseph had over the situation as Henry couldn't see his face and expressions. “Whatever we may think of one another, this is important, and it's important that you are careful. If you die all is lost Henry, this is urgant.” </p><p>“...ok…” Henry wasn't sure what to make of what he said but, Joseph did seem serious, deathly so, and the prospect that he might die, which had crossed his mind for sure, appeared to be far more tangible than before. He thought back to that monster in the alley. </p><p>“The first thing I must stress to you is that Walter is not trustworthy. “Joseph continued, “he is in fact the exact opposite. Henry, he will kill you himself, or at least lead you to your death. You are but a pawn to him, a toy, an obsession. He wants something from you, I don't know what he wants to do to you or why, but his intentions are not good.”</p><p>“How do you know that.” Henry frowned, skeptical. He had no reason to trust Joseph anymore than Walter, if Walter had wanted him dead wouldn't he have left that monster to rip him to shreds? That said he didn't like his phrasing of ‘toy’ or ‘obsession’ or even what he meant by ‘what he wants to do to you’, genuinely feeling disgusted by this, but something wasn't right. Something didn't click with him with Joseph claiming this. </p><p>“This world and my research has proven to be sound and even if i'm not completely sure about details i cannot wait any longer or it will be too late to save even one soul here.” Joseph replied somberly.</p><p>Henry was going to respond until he heard knocking at the front door. He jumped a little and paused until he heard it again.</p><p>“Henry, wait...”</p><p>“I have to see what it is.” Henry turned away from the mirror and out the door, he was more concerned about this than what Joseph was saying as he only had the capacity for so much and he got a bad feeling about Joseph, even different than Walter.</p><p>The knocking on the door ceased but there was a voice coming from behind it, though he couldn't really hear what was being said. He walked closer and peeked out the hole, to see Eileen outside again, frowning and even more concerned that before, she appeared to be trying to look into the hole, </p><p>"Henry? Are you home?" She called again, and then frowned, Henry was sure she could've heard him if he replied but before he could another voice made him close his mouth. </p><p>"What's wrong." The owner of the voice revealed himself to be Richard, sauntering up next to her, as she stepped away for him to glare into the door. He wore a different tie today, though it was classical art Henry sort of wondered about what an article of clothing displaying a woman's breasts predominantly would be trying to say. A museum was one thing, he appreciated art himself quite a bit sure, but Richard seemed too angry for anything nearly as calm as that. </p><p>"Nothing I guess. I just haven't seen Henry around and I keep hearing weird noises that aren't from a TV or anything coming from the room." Eileen said, arms crossed over her chest.</p><p>"...what kinda noises." </p><p>"Well, something like...i dunno a woman maybe?" There was a snort from Richard, "not like that. Like someone in pain or something. And that's not the only one,  there's another that sounds like...i don't even know…"  </p><p>"Well that's helpful." Richard just waved his hand, "this guys weird as hell anyways i dunno why you care besides the noises." </p><p>“He's not bad or anything.” she frowned, with a gesture towards the door, “just a little odd. Ans yeah he doesn't talk much but He's nice.”</p><p>“Yeah sure.” Richard rolled his eyes, “I never heard him talk, not once. Thats pretty fuckin weird to <em>me</em> . he seems like a creep, especially with that big ass camera...”</p><p>“I don't think so. I've never seen him even take a picture of a person. And anyways i just think he's shy.”</p><p>“Men aren't shy, EIleen. If they're too quiet they're either creeps or fuckin serial killers. People said that kinda shit about Jeffrey Dahmer and look what happened.”</p><p>“That's pretty dramatic don't ya think. Anyways we probably would have smelled something weird if he was some cannibal killer. ” Richard turned his head to look at her and though Henry couldn't see his expression he had to assume he gave her a weird look as she just shrugged in a way stating she believed she had a point, Richard turned back to the door shaking his head.</p><p>“I mean he's probably gonna snap someday and we're all gonna find out he's got twenty bodies in the laundry room or he hacked up six kids with an axe. And everybody else is gonna be so shocked cus he never <em> seemed</em> violent and I'm gonna be here tellin you that I told ya so.” </p><p>“Man you've really thought this through.'' Eileen said with some amusement, it was clear she thought he was full of shit. </p><p>“No. i'm just not fucking nieve. There's something about this guy, I don't like him. It always feels like he's staring at people, and like he's lying about something.” </p><p>“What could he be lying about?” Eileen frowned, tilting her head confused, “you've never heard him talk even?” </p><p>“He's just shady alright. Almost as bad as that Walter guy.” Richard shook his head, Eileen’s expression dropped and she scowled. “Look you might like that guy but i don't. He talks weird, and i hate that fuckin smile he's always got on his face. It's obviously fake.”</p><p>“Well if you talk any louder he's gonna hear you. Anyways you haven't even tried to get to know him so i don't see how you can know anything about him.”</p><p>“I don't have to get to know him. He's a freak and that's all there is to it.” Richard waved his hand, "you don't make it to my age if you go blindly trusting random freaks. And that one in particular gives me a bad fucking feeling." </p><p>"...right well. I'm not gonna try and convince you I guess.” Eileen seemed displeased but didn't push it any further. “What do you think we should do here?”</p><p>“Well...i'm thinkin we should tell the Super about it at least. He’ll get him to shut those damn noises up.” Richard nodded, and Eileen seemed to think about that for a moment but nodded eventually. </p><p>“I guess that's probably the best thing to do. At least Sunderland can get him to come out of the room.” Eileen sighed a little and ran her hands through her hair. </p><p>“Year whatever i guess.” Richard glared into the peephole again, “unless he finally keeled over and died.”</p><p>“Don't say that.” Eileen shook her head as they both turned to walk away from the door, “enough weird stuff is already happening right now…”</p><p>Their voices faded out as they left presumably to find Frank, Henry who had just sat there listening and as usual wasn't sure what to make of most of that, he guessed it was nice enough that Eileen cared to defend him, but what did she mean by noises? Or weird things? Was she experiencing things too? He hated to think she had seen some of those dreams worlds, or any of the monsters. </p><p>They were going to get Frank, that was fine he guessed, maybe he could pretend to be asleep, assuming Frank even bothered to come up at all, which seemed rather unlikely.  Henry had to wonder why he hadn't just opened the door, unless it was Richard's presence, but he also didn't have an explanation for Eileen. His head was a jumbled mess of information he couldn't parse and it was getting on his nerves, he didn't like confusing nonsensical clues, he liked things straightforward and simple. It really started to seem like all of this might've coincided with Walter's arrival, and that wasn't a thought he liked. </p><p>He sat on his coffee table with a sigh, rubbing his forehead and tried to think about what to do next. His dreams aggravated the back of his mind, if they even were dreams considering Walter and Jasper’s presence in them and the long bruises down his side. The longer he thought about it the more his head hurt. </p><p>He heard a strange buzzing from the TV, and looked up startled, it wasn't on but he swore he could hear a voice from it, as if someone was calling for him from inside of it, so out of curiosity he pressed the power button and the distorted sound of some channel in between public access and TV snow, there was an odd shadow and though he couldn't really make out a voice it was slightly more clear, it seemed to be asking him to do something. He browsed a couple of channels until he reached one that was nothing but static but he could hear the voice clearer.</p><p>"Henry, please stop changing the channel." The voice crackled through the television, and Henry blinked and was able to make out the shadowy figure in the TV, Joseph was no more clear here than the mirror, in fact he seemed less distinct, but he waa audible, Henry was briefly reminded of how similar this was to a movie he'd watched a few years ago, something about ghosts in the television, not that he was supposed to be watching scary movies but what his parents never knew wouldn't hurt either of them. </p><p>“There. where the hell did you run off to?” Joseph scolded him, and Henry frowned a little, “it wasn't for Walter was it?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Then who was it.” he said with a tone to his voice like he was aggravated.</p><p>“Eileen. Anything else you need to know.” Henry muttered with some frankly uncharacteristic sass, Joseph sighed irritably.</p><p>“I guess not.” the apparition's voice was cold, “I'm not omniscient and I need to know what's going on. <em>forgive</em> me for needing my questions answered.” </p><p>“...You think i don't have any questions?” Henry half murmured, shaking his head, still quite annoyed by Joseph, everything about him and his condescending sort of attitude, as if he’d never talked to someone younger than him without being patronizing. </p><p>“Will it make you more cooperative?” Joseph asked, surprising him a little. </p><p>“Maybe.” Henry shrugged, as he was still unwilling to give him more than an inch. </p><p>“Fine.” the sigh that escaped the shadow in the TV was slightly distorted like an out of tune radio. “What could you need to know more than I've already explained.” </p><p>“Well…” Henry said quietly, thinking it over and then eventually finding a question so far out of left field he was sure that Joseph wouldn't expect it. “How long have you been in my apartment, what have you been doing for however long you've been here and….what have you seen…”</p><p>Joseph was quiet for a few moments and there was an air of discomfort seemingly emanating from the television. Henry didn't exactly derive pleasure from possibly getting to him, seeing as the questions were unpleasant from his end as well. That said, Henry couldn't help but finally feel like he had a step up against Joseph. </p><p>“I've been able to slip in and out of the..of the real world, multiple times throughout the last few years. But i had no control over...when it happened or what i saw.” he stated eventually. </p><p>“But what did you see.” </p><p>“....does it matter.”</p><p>“I'm asking.” Henry said, not liking the implications of his circumventing the conversation as far as he could. </p><p>“More than I needed to.” </p><p>“I mean that's...you don't need to be in here at all.”</p><p>“Look it's...simply the easiest to..manifest in the bathroom. It didn't happen on purpose.” he replied through gritted teeth, '' I don't need to waste my time on disparaging my own name, i need help.” </p><p>“....You're the reason I thought I was being watched.” he'd had the realization a moment before but saying it aloud seemed to solidify it, “it wasn't….it was you and you were there the whole time…” </p><p>“I didn't watch you. I left when i realized..” Joseph replied far too defensively.</p><p>“Did it take the whole fifteen minutes to realize.” </p><p>“Henry this isn't…” there was a deep sigh. “This isn't <em> relevant</em>  to what's going on.”</p><p>“...right. I'm sure it's nothing.” </p><p>“Henry.”</p><p>“No, it's fine. Don't worry about it.” Henry muttered, trying to ignore the revulsion and raw sort of defenseless feeling, like he was somewhat at this man's mercy, and he hated the idea so he opted to ignore it, unwilling to acknowledge that his space, his home was constantly under threat of being invaded by someone who didn't appear to have a great moral standing. At least when it came to spying on people half his age in the bathroom. </p><p>"Any..other questions.." Joseph managed after a moment.</p><p>"You said..you can see me in those dreams right? Where are you? Why can't i see you or just..get you out of there? Why can't you go through the hole like we did?" Henry figured a legitimate question would be better for now. </p><p>"Yes I can see you," Joseph seemed far more relaxed with this inquiry, "but much like I am now I cannot manifest my physical body there. I'd run before, but as of right now I am trapped in some awful version of this apartment. I couldn't communicate because i wasn't interested in Walter knowing where I was, and you both were moving too much to really try and get through to you. This is all very draining to do. As for the hole, well i don't really know what you're talking about.” he explained, Henry decided not to elaborate about the holes. While he thought he tried to see if he could make out any details in Joseph’s face , though he really couldn't. </p><p>“I think i should go out and try and figure out what's going on around the apartments...” Henry said after a moment of contemplation, brushing hair out of his eyes.</p><p>“That's not a bad idea for once.” Joseph didn't seem to be able to say anything without some sort of jab at him, “but you will stay out of Walter’s way right?” </p><p>"....whatever you say." Henry said after a pause, and Joseph evidently didn't like that. </p><p>"You have to act soon Henry, we can't sit around playing games and you can't-" Henry suddenly had an idea and leaned forward switching off the television, and Joseph was gone. Blissful silence. Even though it likely pissed him off. </p><p>Henry rubbed his head and tried to think of what to do next as he'd lied just to get Joseph to shut up for a moment, the only thing that came to mind was to find and confront Walter. Sure Joseph thought that was a bad idea but he wasn't giving Henry anything that useful in his ramblings, not to mention he was still biased against him for presumably having stared at him, and Walter seemed like he knew more anyways. Besides, nothing Joseph could say would change the fact that Walter had killed that monster, and he needed to know why he'd bothered. </p><p>There was nothing to do, but bite the bullet and go and find Walter. That and put some shoes on, he wasn't about to risk any more glass or splinters.</p><p>He wandered to Walter’s apartment room, but after a minute or two of knocking and waiting he guessed Walter wasn't here, maybe he was downstairs or someone else had seen him, perhaps Frank had, he guessed it couldn't hurt to look and he really didn't want to see Joseph right now. He guessed he should be more concerned about the evidence of spirits or whatever the hell Joseph even was, though based on his letters and the conversation before it seemed he was more dragging what he could of himself through a barrier, but Henry was not unfamiliar with the concept of spirits and voices and people he couldn't see or understand. He was far more concerned with the prying eyes of a man he didn't know and didn't want to know. </p><p>The empty halls were devoid of any life or personality, mostly just cracked ceiling and dirty chipped paint along the walls, raggedy carpet with huge patches missing revealing cold nasty tile underneath. South Ashfield Heights wasn't the most welcoming place to be sure, Henry was simply used to it and places like it. Sometimes he wondered if he'd end up like Richard, alone and abandoned among empty awful halls for over thirty years, no family or friends to speak of just a bitter old fool with only a malace to fuel him, only a firearm to keep him company. Henry could be glad guns scared him at least. </p><p>He made his way downstairs, hearing the voices of children on the second floor but thankfully not seeing anybody, and meandered to the side of the first floor where Frank lived, the collection of trash like old boxes and curiously a broken bicycle, collected in the corner near his room and Henry wondered yet again how this place didn't get shut down for negligence. He guessed nobody gave a shit about the conditions of a side of town catered to the generally poor. It really shouldn't surprise him at this point. </p><p>He knocked on Frank's door lightly, now realizing he wasn't exactly sure what to say, at least Frank gave him plenty of time to think it over with him being both old and somewhat lazy it always took him a good couple of minutes to reach the door. Henry had done this song and dance with him many times, someone would knock, and Frank would hear it but wait until he couldn't possibly have any real excuse not to answer, before looking out the hoke in his door, hoping whoever had needed him had gotten bored or thought he wasn't home and wandered off.  It was common knowledge that all one had to do was knock once and wait. Frank didn't leave the apartments enough to ever reasonably assume he wasn't home. The door creaked open and there stood the aging superintendent, clearly just waking up from a nap.   </p><p>“Henry, how's it goin i was just coming up to see if you were alright.” Frank smiled despite his obvious lie, "you need somethin fixed? Your neighbor said there was some weird noises 'round your room." </p><p>"Oh I'm ok, uhm..it was just..the tv, fell asleep on a..weird channel." Henry grimaced a little as that certainly didn't do him any favors, but he knew Frank was too lazy to investigate Eileen's claims that it hadn't come from the tv any further. </p><p>"Hm, well turn down your weird channels there kiddo." Frank's tone implied humor, like he didn't totally believe him but didn't care either. "Anyways, what can i do for ya then?" </p><p>“Right uhm Have..have you seen Walter around anywhere? I uhm...was gonna ask him about something...”</p><p>“Hmm Walter huh, you make a friend?” Frank smiled lightly with his arms crossed on hand resting on his chin. Henry just shrugged.</p><p>“Uh...i guess so…”</p><p>“Good deal...good deal it ain't right for you to be alone all the time Henry, ain't good for you. Anyways, I haven't seen Walter since...oh this morning? If he aint in his room he might be out or somethin. Hey if i see him, do you want me to say somethin? Tell him to meet you in your room?”</p><p>“Oh..no no that's fine..i'll..uhm catch him around some other time it's not...not important.”</p><p>“Yo sure? Alright then. Say what were you gonna ask him about?” Frank asked him and Henry paused before realizing Frank might know something, and it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary if he asked him something normal. He racked his brain for a normal but still relevant question and barely came up with one but went for it anyways.</p><p>“Well uh,,,,i was gonna ask him if he...he knew anything about SIlent HIll.” Henry watched Franks expression and demeanor drop from amicable to something like defensive and pissed off in nearly a split second and Henry stepped back, nervous.</p><p>“The hell do you need to know about that sorta place?” Frank scowled, “ I know you like your pictures an all but there's plenty of places around here that you don't need to go all the way to Silent goddamn Hill.”</p><p>“I...i'm s-sorry.” Henry shrank away a little uncertain of why he was so angry now. It was completely out of character as far as he knew. </p><p>“...it's fine.” Frank sighed, his anger disappearing as quickly as it had come, something like guilt etched into his face, “but you listen here Henry, i know Walter used to live in that hell hole, i know you might be curious but don't you dare go to SIlent Hill, not for no reason it aint worth it.” his voice was deathly serious but not as aggressive. </p><p>“...what...what do you mean?”</p><p>“...nothing. There's just nothing good there, drugs, and...lunatics and shit like that. Don't worry about that town, and don't go lookin for shit there, cus itll find ya if you even think too much about it, alright?” </p><p>“Uhm...yeah alright…” </p><p>“Good. you're a good kid Henry.” Frank said wistfully as he stared off at the pile of garbage with the lonely bike frame as if looking for some ghost of a memory there. But it never came. </p><p>“Uhm...well i have to uhm...make lunch so...i'll see you around?”</p><p>“Hm? Oh yeah. Have a good day Henry.'' Frank nodded, continuing to stare at the trash as Henry backed away and headed out of the hallways and back upstairs.</p><p>So everyone was insane today, great to know.  He wasn't sure if he was frustrated or scared or both, but he couldn't help but be irrationally curious as to what would prompt Frank to go off like that about Silent Hill of all things, he thought to the picture he'd given him two years ago when he'd moved in, but couldn't figure out what conclusion he was supposed to draw from that. The warning still echoed in his mind, ans the more he thought about it the more it had seemed less like a command, and more like a plea, <em>it'll find ya if you even think too much about it </em>, he couldn't help but think Frank was trying to sort of protect him from something. But that certainly wasn't the way to do it, and was decidedly out of character for a man that didn't care about anything else. </p><p>He made his way to the third floor again, to decide what he was going to do next, he guessed he could wait for Walter by his door just in case he came out or came home, though he was sure he'd be weirded out it didn't really matter. He didn't want to be in his apartment especially since Joseph would probably keep berating and questioning him. No, he was sick of that. There was a reason he never wanted roommates. </p><p>As he turned the corner he saw a familiar face, not the one he was looking for, but a nicer one regardless. Eileen was crouched near the floor but stood up a moment later. </p><p>“Oh Henry there you are, I was worried about you.” EIleen smiled and waved him over, despite this for some reason making him feel somewhat timid, it was nice that she seemed normal, unlike Frank. </p><p>“O-oh sorry i...didn't mean to make you worry.” Henry said as he was trying to come up with an explanation, but deciding that no explanation was better.</p><p>“It's ok, i just haven't seen you but i heard some weird noises and...i dunno i guess i'm just a little paranoid. Not to mention what happened to that guy who lived in Walter’s apartment before him….” Eileen rambled on, and before he could ask her what she meant she continued, “Actually I was looking for Walter to see if he'd seen you around, uh did Mr. Sunderland talk to you?”</p><p>“Oh...well no but i saw him in..in the hall when i was looking for...my mail..” Henry replied, deciding to take Frank’s insane comment with him like a peice of animal bone in his pocket, something to look at and ponder by himself, but not something to be shared. </p><p>“Hm. that figures, he never does much does he?” she smiled but it seemed a little strained, he felt sort of bad, he wondered if he was messing something up, but couldn't figure out what it could be.</p><p>The door opened behind them and they turned to see Walter leaving his apartment, he looked a little lost, his eyes unfocused, he was still wearing the clothes he had been in the dream, though he was wearing shoes as well this time. </p><p>“Hey Walter there you are,” Eileen waved him over and Walter slowly turned to look at them, it took him a good moment or two to really process the people he was looking at, his mind was obviously a million miles away and trying as hard as possible to come down to earth. </p><p>“Oh, hello. How are you.” Walter said softly his eyes locked on Henry who wasn't really looking at his face directly, but he was keeping an eye on him. There was something about him that was offputing, in a way he couldnt quite put his finger on, different thrn before. </p><p>“Just tired i gotta get to work is all, are you ok?”</p><p>“Yes i'm fine. I'm...just a headache, I didn't sleep well.” Walter stated, Henry guessing that was somewhat true, it occurred to him that he also really hadn't slept, but he guessed he'd just been used to it at this point, lately he'd tried to avoid all nighters, but last night really felt like he’d pulled one albeit unintentionally. </p><p>“Aw i'm sorry-Hey...what's on your clothes...is that, that blood?” EIleen interrupted herself, seeming somewhat nervous as she spotted it, a heartbeat later Henry got an idea.  </p><p>“It's just...paint.” Henry said, giving Walter a sideways glance that he returned with an indescribable expression. There was only a split second between the three of them, but it felt like a millenia. </p><p>“Yes, paint. We...were talking while i was painting last night. “ Walter replied, it occurred to Henry that the two of them probably came off as disturbed and creepy, softly and emotionlessly repeating a vaguely bizarre coverup story, and as far as Henry could tell they might as well be the twins from The Shining. </p><p>“Oh, well you better get some new pants or something, it looks a lot like blood, hey maybe we can go together some time.” she smiled but if Henry wasn't mistaken she seemed a bit weary, he wasn't sure if she was tired or if she didn't believe them or what, but there was something else there. </p><p>“Yes, thats...that's probably a good idea.” Walter replied, he appeared to be trying to fake that same amicable tone he'd had when Henry had overheard them the first time, but it wasn't quite right. </p><p>“Alright boys well i really gotta get going, but i'm glad you're alright. See you around.” Eileen nodded and reached inside her apartment to grab her handbag digging for her keys and some kind of lanyard as she disappeared leaving Henry and Walter alone in the hallway. </p><p>They were silent for a few minutes, everything Henry had wanted to ask him was gone and all of it was replaced with both Frank and Joseph's warnings, Walter's face was just as blank, and exhausted.</p><p>“I think we should make some time...to talk about what happened.” Walter said eventually, keeping his voice low as if worried about eavesdroppers. </p><p>“I think so too.”</p><p>“Good. Good. I think for now...we should rest. Don't..worry about anything right now, you shouldn't be in any danger for a few days, i can explain more...when we have more time.” Walter explained lightly, and while Henry wasn't sure of what to think of how matter of fact he was, Henry believed him and nodded. </p><p>“I believe you.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>And with that the two of them made their way back into their individual apartments. Evidently that must've been what Walter wanted, Either that or he was too out of it to realize what he was doing.</p><p>When he entered the apartment he sighed and then noticed that there suddenly were two notes on the floor, one on that similar red paper that must've belonged to Joseph, his fun little calling card, the other written on plain notebook paper in messy, slightly loopy handwriting. As he picked up the papers the mere presence of the red one seemed to make his head hurt. The air felt somewhat heavy and strange.</p><p>
  <em> it seems my revealing myself to you might not have been the best choice. For that i am sorry, my presence has invited that of other, more unwanted visitors, apparitions, and things that i cannot put a name to. I've put a hole in your home and I must apologize for that despite our differences. I will keep my distance for now until I figure out what to do next, I advise you stay inside as much as possible to make sure these oppressive forces do not become overwhelming and sentient. Be diligent, Henry. You can't let this place win. </em>
</p><p>Henry stared at this, a bit unnerved but otherwise it didn't mean much to him. Another hole wasn't a welcoming thought, but he didn't feel like going into the bathroom to check. Unless he was talking about it in a metaphorical sense? Henry wasn't sure, he wasn't a writer, or much of a reader so metaphor didn't mean much to him. Apparitions, the fear that something from that otherworld could come into his home was there, however he felt somewhat numb to even more of this insanity. He didn't even know where he could begin to try and make himself feel normal again, like he had a solid brick wall crashing his train of thought. He set the paper on the counter and rubbed his forehead trying to stop the ache in his head. </p><p>He glanced into his kitchen and froze. His shoes, the extra shoes he had by the door were in the middle of his kitchen floor instead of where they were supposed to be, they were slightly ajar on the floor as if someone was wearing them and just standing there thinking. Henry approached them and his head hurt worse inexplicably but, there was nothing else odd about them. Just a pair of shoes, not where they were supposed to be. He wondered if this had anything to do with what Joseph had been talking about, but shook his head of the thought. It was just a misplaced pair of shoes. Even if it was paranormal in nature, it wasn't an immediate issue. He picked them up, an action that for some reason rewarded him with a sharp pain in his skull like he'd been aggressively stabbed with a needle through his ear. He gently set them by the door where they were supposed to be, lined up as neatly as he could with the stabbing in his head. Thankfully when he walked back over to the other side of the room, the pain subsided. </p><p>Weird. But mostly just stupid. If this was the kind of thing Joseph was talking about he must be easily spooked, and that idea made him feel a little better about himself. </p><p>Now that all of that was settled and Henry set the red note facedown on his counter, he remembered the other note and pulled out the notebook paper, it clearly wasn't Joseph’s, nor was it Walter’s, but he he scanned it finding the signature fairly quickly, still surprised to have her seemingly want to communicate with him so much. </p><p>
  <em> Henry, i really don't know what's going on but i have this really weird feeling, like it has something to do with both of us, i don't wanna talk about it in a note in case anyone else grabs it or around here in the apartments just in case though. Whenever you have time we should meet up and discuss it. I promise I wouldn't say anything if it wasn't important ok? -Eileen<br/>
P.s. please don't say anything to Walter, i'll explain why when i get a chance i promise. </em>
</p><p>Henry sighed and sat at the counter, looking out of the window at the sun that was perched at it's midday position. He couldn't fathom what she could be talking about, but got a disturbed sneaking suspicion that he was right about his worry that she had something to do with all of this. He sighed deeply, thinking that didn't remember the last time he'd been so popular. He couldn't say he liked it much.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Obsessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Look, look, just choose something quick// People are staring, time to go quick in Skin is on fire//Just choose something, something, something Pressure overwhelming//We've got obsessions//I wanna erase every nasty thought that bugs me every day of every week]</p><p>Eileen has some unanswerable questions</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whoops this is so goddamn long id apologize but im really proud of it so thank you all for your patience. Thank you so much for comments too i adore reading them (and dw if theyre long thats even better) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The monkey's paw, as it often did, curled inward. He would and did regret his internal scoffing at the man trying to warn him.</p><p>The tv wasn't turning off, or wouldn't turn on, it seemed to choose what it wanted to do on a whim every couple of hours, he swore he could see somebody in the static but he couldn't make it out through the distortion, and it wasn't Joseph. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. The volume buttons didn't work either, most of the time, so he couldn't mute the snow. Irritating to say the least. However, this would only be a slightly tiresome ordeal if it weren't for his clock which was at random times going off with the hands spinning rapidly. Also only mildly aggravating on it's own, if both of these things didn't give him a head splitting ache in his head every time he got close to it. Great, he had to avoid an entire section of his apartment most of the time. Delightful even. </p><p>It had only been two days since Joseph and Eileen’s letters and he hadn't quite been able to adjust to everything, especially since he'd been working the past two days, and sleeping on and off, eating whatever he could scavenge ;it occurred to him that this was likely the reason he was so skinny, not eating nearly enough or as often enough as he really should but hey, he forgot and he already barely felt most everything else why not also barely feel hunger. Regardless, it honestly wasn't that different than normal other than his unusual anxiety, but he remembered this from his school days as well and it didn't really phase him, it just made him sad to think about. Thus, he tried not to. It wasn't too hard.</p><p>Joseph had not tried to contact him again, thank god, and it seemed that he hadn't been watching him in the shower anymore, at least he hoped so but there was the distinct lack of paranoia that implied he wasn't around. He was certainly grateful as, well he was stressed, and he didn't have a lot of other ways to unwind, he wasn't going to do it anywhere else. </p><p>All of this considered he wasn't coping well, but he also wasn't coping badly, he was just shy of getting through each day with at the very least, most of his sanity (a not insignificant part of that attributed to the shower, he didn't want to know were he'd be mentally without it, embarrassing though it may be to admit that this of all things was keeping him sane) thus he guessed he was coping in one way or another. That said, it wouldn't last forever.</p><p> Luckily he had something to sort of look forward to, or dread. He'd replied to Eileen by slipping a note under her door after he was sure she was asleep the day he'd received her letter, telling her the next day he'd be off work and that he could meet her by the stairs on the first floor, she giving him a thumbs up of assumed approval as he passed her by the mailboxes while going to work the next day, he guessed she assumed he was late as he walked rather fast, he wasn't, but that didn't matter. So with that, he assumed things were all set to go, he certainly hoped so at least. </p><p>He sighed looking at himself in the mirror, he wore his nicest clothes, his black jeans and a button down with a soft maroon sweater over it whose neck was too wide to wear normally. He didn't wear the nicer shoes with it though, they seemed to be haunted and he didn't need that kind of back luck.what a weird thought, haunted shoes. Maybe it was stupid but he couldnt help but be a little paranoid. He still hadn't cut his hair either. That said he guessed Eileen wouldn't care, or maybe even think it was odd that he was trying so hard, frankly he wasn't sure why he was, surely she’d notice he never put this much effort into his appearance normally, or maybe he looked stupid, or maybe this wasn't that nice at all and he was delusional. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes trying to relax, he was on edge, she probably wouldn't even comment on it because they had far more important things to worry about. So why was he trying so hard? He guessed it was because she was a pretty girl, but that also barely made sense as he didn't even like women, at least he didn't think so, he couldn't be sure as he'd very rarely met nice women, then again he'd barely met nice men either, and he was fairly sure he liked men. He shook his head, now was <em>not</em> the time to be worried about any of that nonsense. He was a mess, but a controlled mess. That would be fine. </p><p>He left the bathroom and passed the currently fizzling TV, ignoring it to grab keys and a wallet though he wasn't that sure he'd need it; he headed out of his apartment, which was like taking a deep breath after holding one's head underwater for too long. The relief was so palpable he could basically taste it and he felt much better, besides the lingering apprehension regarding Eileen. It would be fine, maybe, he should really be more concerned about what they had to talk about but he guessed he hadn't been able to think that far ahead. </p><p>He sat down on the first step on the first floor, waiting for her as he’d told her he would. He thought about everything, about what had gone on for the past, week or so, how strange everything was, how fantastical and awful everything was. He felt like he was in a particularly bizarre horror movie, he'd watched so many of those so maybe he was making connections that weren't even there, regardless he assumed if he was a normal person he'd be going insane. Yet here he was, he guessed he was just trying to ignore or blindly accept whatever was happening, so he could maintain his mental stability or at least not breakdown every goddamn day. Still he kept seeing the monster's body, bloodied and remember how Walter looked in that moment, almost as terrifying as the creature he'd slaughtered like a pig, in the whirlwind of the hours after he'd woken up, he'd barely had time to consider the implications of that in the man he now lived right next to. He had barely attempted to understand the rest of the dreamscape. Not to mention all of the hints Walter was a monster himself, from Frank's aversion to his hometown, to Richard’s sense that something was wrong with him, to Jasper calling him the devil, indeed it seemed like the only person to be batting for Walter was Eileen. And Henry didn't know her enough to trust her judgement. Then again, she’d told him not to say anything to Walter about their meeting, something he still couldn't think of an explanation for, each implication was even more confusing or unlikely than the last. He'd quickly ruled out it being a jealousy thing, convinced Walter would know better than to be obviously jealous when it was a miracle someone was talking to him at all. Well that was mean but not wholly inaccurate, he thought grimacing to himself. Maybe they'd be talking about Walter when they met up, maybe she didn't trust him either, but then why had she argued that he wasn't a bad person to richard, if she'd felt something off about him wouldn't it make sense to tell their resident vigilante security guard with the gun about her concerns? It didn't make sense and Henry assumed he wouldn't be able to figure it out on his own, yet he still tried. He assumed it was a byproduct of being so nervous for this meeting that he needed anything else at all to focus on.</p><p>He was slightly startled by footsteps behind him and turned his head around to see Eileen making her way towards him,she looked just as tired as the other day, as though she were forcing herself to be as chipper as possible. She was wearing slightly high waisted jeans and a cropped colorful shirt with a long unbuttoned purple sweater of sorts. He couldn't deny she was always cute, but in the way someone might find a puppy cute. <em>Great Henry, call her an animal that's sure to win her over</em></p><p>“Hey Henry,” She smiled a bit wearily, “wanna head out? I know a quiet little cafe a little bit away, I can drive.”</p><p>“Oh...right yeah uhm..” Henry cleared his throat, stood up, and awkwardly put his hands into his pockets with a light nod,”that's...that's fine.” </p><p>“Good, c'mon,” she led him outside, it was just chilly enough that Henry's sweater was nearly perfectly warm, sure there were plenty of layers under it but he was always remarkably cold. Henry tried to calm himself with cold wind and the clattering of leaves against the pavement, reminding him of the fact it was getting to be late autumn,  it was all very soothing. Eileen led him to a somewhat rundown looking vehicle, Henry wasn't really versed at all in cars, the subject never being an interest or required of him and thus he could barely tell a jeep from a pickup truck as he just didn't give a damn. Didn't help that he didn't drive either; he sort of knew how, he knew all the rules but in practice just sitting behind a wheel made him a nervous wreck and he convinced himself he'd be so nervous he <em>would</em> wreck.  Thus he didn't entertain the idea much. </p><p>He followed her lead and got inside, there were a lot of seemingly random items inside the car, sure a little bit of trash, empty bottles and such but not an excessive amount. it was like she’d driven to work a couple of times and forgotten them there, there were colorful beads of some kind wrapped around the rearview mirror, some clothes and a backpack in the backseat, with a small horse doll, and a little figurine of a warmly colored toucan with ‘Tookie the Toucan’ on the base of it settled on the dashboard. It was all very cute and the mess part of it was almost charming, Eileen wasn't dirty by any means, just a little disorganized and perhaps forgetful. He could appreciate her dedication to keeping her personal space somewhat homely with fun little reminders of childhood or whimsy at the very least. </p><p>“Sorry it's a mess.” she waved her hands, her keys had a little doll as a keychain on them, he guessed she really liked toys and wondered if she collected them. </p><p>“N-no that's fine, i don't mind.” Henry shook his head as he buckled the slightly worn seat belt over his chest, keeping his eyes on the toucan that bobbled it's head a little bit in fascination, she seemed to notice him staring at it as she started the car and began backing away. </p><p>“Like him? I found it at the mall in Silent Hill, the...well there's only the one. I think they tried to rebrand that mall a little, at least since the 80s, they added a mascot to seem more kid friendly i think. My mom has some pictures of us there when I was a really little kid. Anyways i just think he's cute.” she smiled as she talked, sort of rambling a little, he wasn't sure if she was talking to him or distracting herself but he simply hummed interested as a response. </p><p>“Have you ever been to that mall?” she asked and then continued when he shook his head ”Yeah i figured. You don't seem the type to like malls, it's kinda draining after being there for too long, but it can be fun, if you have some money for food at least.” She continued, Henry listening and when they reached a stoplight he realized this was the calmest he'd been in a car in years, and the revelation was somewhat nice. It was quiet for a moment while as he pondered the mall, he didn't have an attachment to malls or anything of the sort, he'd been to a couple, and it was fine he guessed but with too many stores and far too many people around he'd only been two or three times as for obvious reasons he had no desire to relive the experiences. That said he wasn't really as disagreeable about malls as opposed to amusement parks or schools or any number of other places. </p><p>“You look nice by the way.” Eileen commented at another stoplight, “I almost thought you were dressing up to impress me or something.” she smiled and Henry felt warmer, he guessed she was joking but still didn't want to give off the impression he was trying too hard. </p><p>“Thank you…” he murmured, “it wasn't..uhm on purpose i just uhm...didn't wanna look...bad.”</p><p>“Aww, thats cute.” she smiled a bit more genuinely, he was quite sure the car had gotten at least ten degrees hotter, his face sure had anyways. “But don't worry, I don't think you look bad, i never have y’know, in the handful of times I have seen you.” </p><p>“Oh uhm..uhm thanks...i think you look..nice too.” he said softly, and she smiled more. She seemed appreciative, or at the least found his attempts to be as normal as possible rather endearing. </p><p>“Alright here we are. Lucky we got here after lunch hm?” She managed a parking spot on the side of the building and they both got out Henry realizing he was holding a lot of tension in his shoulders, though he couldn't be sure why. He tried to relax and not wonder about what she was going to talk about inside the building. After their first conversation in the hallway it was clear she wasn't doing this for any reason other than whatever was happening to her. </p><p>He followed her inside the little cafe, a cute rustic place, with soft lighting and cozy booths. A handful of workers were busy cleaning up after the lunch rush. Henry had barely considered the fact that he'd have to engage with a new place and was somewhat put off, uncertain of what he should do but Eileen considered the menu, Henry trying to read it himself with his brain practically flatlining, and she turned to him after a minute.</p><p>“Hm you wanna pick out a booth, i'll order some food if you want.” she asked and he, startled, paused and attempted to form a sentence quickly.</p><p>“O-oh sure uhm…”</p><p>“You like coffee? Muffins seem nice too, this place makes really nice ones.” </p><p>“Yeah i-yeah thats, both is good.” he shifted and cleared his throat, and when she nodded he sort of tore himself away from the very short line off to a small booth in the corner, one next to a window, seating himself with his back to the wall while he looked around at the decor. Cute little plants and minimalistic art of coffee and pastries, he fiddled with the packages of sugar on the table, while he glanced at a few other patrons trying not to actively stare. He was a bit calmer now but not by much while he tried to push everything he said wrong out of his head, it didn't matter now and she likely hadn't even noticed. He sighed, wondering what everyone here thought of him despite himself. hell they probably thought he was far outside his league even friendship wise. He did wonder, though this was the first time he'd ever had to wonder this, if someone thought they were on a date or something. He wasn't sure what to think about that, they probably didn't think that sure but still it was bizzare to consider, and it gave him some very weird feelings. Feelings he didn't have time to think about as she was returning from the counter with a receipt that she set on the table when she found him. </p><p>“There you are, it'll be a minute, also forgot to ask how you like your coffee but there's some sugar and stuff here so i figured it's not a big deal.” she said sitting down and setting her little purse to the side.</p><p>“Yeah yeah...thank you..” Henry nodded a little, trying to find a way to hold his body that wasn't awkward but also wasn't too uncomfortable. He wondered if there were people who could teach him how to be normal without overthinking everything, he doubted it though</p><p>“Of course, you don't really look like you enjoy being out in public too much, so sorry about that.” she tilted her head in a way that seemed to be sympathetic. “I just, really...really need to talk to you about some stuff, i don't know why i just felt like you could, well, maybe answer some things, really i don't know why you, i just had a feeling…” she shook her head and he pondered this for half a second. </p><p>“Well...uhm…i can try to, i can explain what I can.” He managed to stammer out a little, trying not to think of what she was about to say. He didn't figure it was worth it to play dumb as though he didn't know what she was talking about, she clearly knew something, he didn't think ignorance ever saved anyone any trouble.</p><p>“Thank you…” she sighed and tapped the table with her nails a little, “Well, i guess the best i can say is, something weird is going on, it's been going on for a couple of weeks i think…all kinds of weird things keep happening and i'm starting to think it isn't a coincidence anymore.”</p><p>“Like..what kind of weird things…” </p><p>“Like...like weird dreams, weird noises, things..things i swear i can see that nobody else can see. Things that i can't explain...i feel weird, bad memories coming back..” her eyes glazed over a little, as if said memories had slipped back while she was talking like an unwelcome visitor. Before he could reply the worker called some number and it seemed to snap her out of her thoughts and she stood up and retrieved the food, giving him a few moments to think about his answer, quite upset that she was very likely experiencing things that he had. He thought of Joseph's first letter referencing her. He hated more and more that the apperiton's warnings appeared to be right as time went on.</p><p>“Here, there's a couple of different kinds of muffins we can share.” she stated as if she had forgotten what she had just said, the thoughts wicked away by casual monotony and pastries. She set the food and coffee on the table and he said thanks as they settled in again. Warm pastries, blueberries, cranberries, apples and things of the like, with even hotter coffee, Eileen took to dumping a bunch of sugar and cream in hers and him following suit though not nearly as much as she had. They didn't continue their conversation for a moment, busy enjoying what they could with what they both knew. Eileen seemed fond of blueberry muffins, he noted, enjoying an apple one himself and though he wasn't some coffee enthusiast in any sense, it was good, having a vague taste of vanilla to it. </p><p>“Like i said, i dunno why i thought of you with all of this, i just had this feeling…” Eileen murmured after a moment. He nodded and attempted to think of what to say.</p><p>“No i..i think i understand...what you mean. I uhm..i didn't want to say anything before because i...i didn't know how to, how to explain it.” he said, after some deliberation. “I didn't wanna bother anybody.” </p><p>“Have you been seeing things?” she asked and then added, “what about those noises?”</p><p>“Well-well yes but i still..i haven't ever heard any noises from my..my room. Honest. But i..i do believe you, what with...i've heard and seen.” he said softly, staring down at the mid brown coffee on the table, rubbing crumbs off muffins onto a napkin. </p><p>“Hm. fair enough...what kind of things did you..see?”</p><p>“Well…” he sighed, deciding describing the dreams could wait for now with how awful they were, “I found weird notes that I'd never seen before and..that just appeared. There was...a weird hole i saw, but i think it was a dream? I meant to ask Walter but…”</p><p>“What? Why Walter?” Eileen frowned, putting down a muffing she’d been eating, he was a little startled by how serious she looked. </p><p>“Oh well...uhm i..i fell asleep on my, my couch the other night and woke up in my bed and he was there, in my room and...for some reason the door was..chained up and we couldn't get out. Apparently he woke up there too…” he sighed realizing that he really sounded insane, but she looked like she was holding onto every word that left his hesitant mouth. “We tried to figure out what was going on...and then a hole just appeared in my bathroom. When we went through it there was...well there were a lot of things that happened…weird dreams...eventually i woke up again and...everything was back to normal...”</p><p>“Jesus...i haven't seen any...weird holes but i don't like the sound of that.” Eileen rested her head in her hand, frowning and tapping her hands on the table, “Normally i wouldn't believe you honestly, but...i keep having dreams that feel super real and..then i'll wake up somewhere other than my bed...i woke up with this weird candle the other day, like one you put in big candelabras i remember picking it up in the dream.” she muttered, her eyes unfocused again.</p><p>“Hm...i don't really know what's going on..but it's..it's something, and...well so far it's, you, Walter and..and me i guess…” he shrugged a little, taking a moment to finish his coffee while she stared out the window, though he was pretty sure she was listening. Henry remembered what she’d said in her letter about not telling Walter and realized he still didn't know why he went to ask but before he could Eileen blinked hard and shook her head, suddenly looking scared. </p><p>Henry looked out the window and saw a shadow of something creeping down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. It looked humanoid but moved in a way that told the both of them it definitely wasn't a person. It was shambling, the edges of its body flickering oddly like it was barely still corporal. Long and thin and gangly, wincing in it's movements as though it's bones were scraping against one another as it shambled aimlessly around, he couldn't see much of it but could tell that it wouldn't take long for it to eventually make it's way over to them. He didn't want to see any more of it.</p><p>“Henry…”</p><p>“I….i can see it.” he whispered, and saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, they wordlessly both stood up and began a mild routine of cleaning up their table calmly, Henry could tell that the two of them were the only people that could see them, as the workers were casually glancing out the same big windows and not acknowledging the thing now running into mailboxes. No reason to draw attention to themselves, even as Henry could barely breathe. When they were finished, Henry trying to ignore a growing headache and slight vertigo, they wordlessly nodded to one another and left the shop. His headache was worse outside but the two of them refused to look at the creature, walking as quickly as they could without alerting suspicion. Henry swore he could hear some kind of siren in the distance, but blocked it out, he didn't care, he just wanted to go home now. Get as far away from this as possible. </p><p>They both let out a breath when they got into the car, as if the entire time they were trying not to summon the creature closer though Henry was still too scared to take much more than a few gasps at a time. They sat there quietly, Henry shaking a little but frankly that was the least of his worries. What was that? And how did it get here? This wasn't a dream of any kind he was ascertain of that so what was going on? It was almost like it’d been called here by them even mentioning what was happening. He looked over and Eileen was gripping the steering wheel hard, she seemed as though she was unable to think.</p><p>Henry hesitantly attempted to reach over to console her but didn't actually touch her, hoping the softly raised arm in her field of vision was enough, she looked over at him blinking slightly in surprise and then just nodded.</p><p>“We should uhm..go home right.” she said softly as he retracted his arm and nodded. His other hand was trying to dig its way into his leg through his jeans. God he was glad she could drive, it seemed like the only thing she could do right now. The drive was quiet, she had turned the opposite direction to the monster, extending the ride by a good several minutes but neither of them cared. The only conversation they had was her asking if he thought the other people around the area would be alright. He had simply nodded and she took it as an answer, even if they both knew neither had any real idea if that were true or not.</p><p>He wasn't sure if the looming apartment buildings were foreboding or a comfort. He didn't know if there was much of a difference anymore. </p><p>When she parked, Eileen gently placed her head in her hands and sighed heavily, her shoulders shaking a little and he wasn't sure if she was crying or just anxious and he didn't know how to attempt to console her, not with his own laborious breathing and trembling hands. She sighed and frowning raised her head, pulling herself together almost calm if shaken up. </p><p>“...have you seen...seen that thing before?”</p><p>“...n-no not that thing but-but i've seen things that were...like it.” he replied eventually, his voice shaky and strained, though he managed to pry his hand off of his leg. </p><p>“It...i couldn't see it well. But how did it get all the way over there?” she shook her head. </p><p>“I think it was there...for us.” </p><p>“You might be right. I don't know what we’re gonna do…” she rubbed her forehead and brushed her hair back. “We..we gotta...i dunno lets go inside, i feel like there's still...something out here…we can figure it out in my apartment, i didn't wanna stay there at first because i thought it was the building but...i don't know anymore.” Henry just nodded and she took a deep breath before getting out of her car. </p><p>The lobby of their apartments had some strange overtone of something not being right. Eyes in the walls, and the sense like the whole building was waiting with baited breath for something. Henry wasn't sure what it was, but he hated the feeling, the tension one could cut with a knife. Something lurking in the bowels of the building waiting desperately to be released from it's prison.</p><p>Standing around looking vaguely confused until he spotted them was Frank, he smiled lightly and approached seeming completely unaware of how tense the both of them were. He stood, a bit too close and Henry tried not to back away from him, Frank had a habit of showing up at the worst possible times and not being there when he needed to be and now was a prime example of this. Frank seemed blissfully unaware of the atmosphere in the room or of anything at all bothering him. How Henry wished he could be so ignorant, though after the other day, he couldn't help but wonder if Frank was simply good at feigning said ignorance, unless Eileen and himself were both going crazy. Either was likely, he didn't know alot about this building's heedless caretaker, nobody really did.</p><p>“Hey there, where did you two get to? On a date or something?” he chuckled a little but not in a way that would imply he was joking, just that he found them endearing or cute in a way. Henry didn't know what to say to that and EIleen just blinked a few times as if trying to find her conversational footing.</p><p>“what ? oh no we were just going out to get coffee.”</p><p>“Kinda late for coffee.” Frank still had that smug old person look as though he'd figured something out and wouldn't hear a word edgewise. “You kids behave now.”</p><p>There was certainly something aggravating about being called kids, Henry had never had grandparents so he guessed this would be similar to an annoying relative, as EIleen just rolled her eyes before seeming to have a thought.</p><p>“Right well, uh Mr. Sunderland? Has anything weird been happening lately?” she asked and he, chin resting on his knuckles as he frowned, simply shook his head.</p><p>“Weird? Well i don't think so. Not that i've seen anyways. Why do ya ask? Is someone botherin you?”</p><p>“No no, just uhm...it's nothing really.” She shook her head, seeming to have no way to explain herself to Frank, Henry didn't have any idea either. Frank just nodded seeming far away himself, Henry still getting the impression that he was keeping something from them. Like half of him was in some other fantasy world where nothing was wrong, and half of him knew exactly what was going on but wasn't telling. Unsettling to say the least.</p><p>“Well i hope it stays that way. Least you got someone else lookin out for ya right?” Frank smiled again, setting a hand on Henry’s shoulder, he grimaced a little, decently uncomfortable with him touching him, but Frank couldn't tell the difference between a punch in the head and a handshake sometimes so he must've taken it as a smile. “You two keep yourselves safe ok? There's a lot of strange things in this world.” he nodded vacantly. Henry wondered if he was ok, but didn't know what to say to him.</p><p>“Yeah...something like that uh...we’ll see you later okay?” Eileen said, a frown etched onto her face as she slowly sidestepped towards the stairs, Henry wishing he could as well until Frank thankfully let go of him and waved. </p><p>“See you kids later.” Frank turned to face the wall and as Henry climbed the stairs and looked back at him, he had that same wistful look on his face as the other day, as though he were lost in memories of much better days, where the paint on the walls was less chipped and faded. </p><p>He wasn't sure what to make of it, but it was the last thing he had time to worry about at the moment. </p><p>They only stopped once they reached Eileen’s front door, the air just as palpably tense, Henry’s head was spinning lightly, there was a headache throbbing from the back of his skull that he realized had been there since after Frank had let go of him and had only gotten worse, Eileen looked nervous. They were standing there for a good minute before she tried to speak up. </p><p>“Sorry i...i don't know why i..i'm almost scared to go inside..” she laughed trepidatiously, as if she was trying to justify it to herself with a joke, a joke that didn't even land in her own park. She took a deep breath and dug in her jeans for her keys, the whimsical little doll keychain looking far less charming, Henry stared at it as she fumbled with the lock and realized, very slowly, that he felt ill, like he wasn't all there. The ringing in his ears had nothing to do with fear, but was in actuality those old sirens from his dreams. The warning came far too late as his head was fuzzy and he had stopped feeling anything in his limbs.</p><p>“Henry? Henry?” The voice was so far away, the hands on his shoulders slipped from his mind and all the while the sirens warned him, prepare they said, prepare for something worse than the pounding in your skull.</p><p>He was in the closet again. That same crying, but now she, the woman, was screaming. Angry, enraged even, the male voice shouting back. He heard whimpering from near him in the closet but it didn't seem like they were really there. A shadow maybe, a memory, one best forgotten though hell wouldn't let him. He crawled out of the closet and the room had changed, there was a bed, sheets bloodied and covered in something like bile, and there was a busted dresser smashed on the floor. Also bloodied and covered in pus and gore. A small, intimately familiar, stuffed lamb lay next to the bed, but when he went to pick it up, it's soft limbs crumbled into bone and became dust on the rancid carpet, the toy morphing in his hands, well loved fur matted and turned into fleshy skin, like it had been sewn together with animal intestine. Grotesque, it felt like raw meat and he felt a tightening in his stomach and tears threatening to fall, he tossed the desecration of something that had once been his only friend, against the wall as hard as he could in a brief fit of emotion and was promptly reminded of why he was never allowed to do so. The things head split open blood splattering over the rotting wallpaper, and it cried out like a beaten, scared child,  he flinched, feeling a punch of guilt to his gut. He walked over to it and picked it up, cradling him (no. not him it, <em>it</em> ) in his arms not wholly unlike how one would cradle a baby. The mutilated toy cried and cried, while he rocked it having no idea what else to do until it's tears seemed to subside and it took a horrific, final shuddering breath. It died. Henry had killed him. He stood and gently laid him in bed, tucking the little monster under soiled sheets. The screaming from the other room had gotten louder as he stared down at it. Then banging, fists on the wall as if trying to break the barriers between them. Henry realized he couldn't stand here and mourn his childhood friend, and he must face the anger in the next room. He unlocked the door, moving the small chair that had been holding it closed and wandered down the awful hallway. The bars on the doors rusted shut, a trail of blood led him to the one open door and in spite of himself he followed it. The bathroom with a bright luminescent light above a mirror he couldn't see well stood in front of him and he walked inside tentatively. He wavered slightly when he saw the room around him. The mirror was shattered, blood all over the glass, in the drain there was hair covered in a strange mucus, he tried not to look at it or the razors on the side of the sink. The shower was also full of blood, a body lay in the tub mostly drowned by gore with arms lacerated to the bone hanging off of the side of the tub. He backed out of the bathroom, unwilling to explore any of the cabinets or the toilet, though he could hear soft crying from somewhere in the bathroom, like someone just heartbroken that he would abandon them. He attempted to approach the door at the end of the hall again but as the beating on the wall started up again and the yelling got louder and angrier he back away, too scared to approach it, turning to go back to his room, but behind him was just a long black hallway, no doors, just walls closing in, as he walked the wallpaper rotting more until it peeled away revealing more metal bars and an empty black void. A hanging body off in the distance but he didn't have time to consider it. A staircase loomed below him, leading him down into more blackness. God only knew he didn't want to go down there, but he heard something behind him, heaving breaths nearly at his throat and he felt frozen. The floor under him cracked and crumbled underneath him and before he could do anything else he felt like he was falling. The blackness below threatened to swallow him. </p><p>He awoke suddenly and sat up, eyes wide and his breath short and choppy, there were still hands on his shoulders as he stared ahead and attempted to recognize the face in front of him. It was Eileen and she looked terrified. </p><p>“Henry, oh my god are you ok? What happened?” she asked but he couldn't seem to answer, he wanted to throw up, he wasn't really coherent and really needed either a hug or nobody to ever touch him again. He wasn't sure. He gestured a little as much as he could to explain but nothing came to him. She seemed to understand that he couldn't really answer her at the moment, and though he was certain that she was aggravated she showed no signs of this. Eileen stood and looked around seeming confused and scared. Henry used the moment to calm himself enough to at least get to his feet and look around the room. He wasn't certain but it seemed that the hallways were more decerpet than before;  he couldn't care about that or much else at the moment. </p><p>“Henry, what happened,” she kept a person or so of space between them, arms crossed over her chest as she watched him almost nervous that he might do something or collapse again, as it just now occurred to him that he had before. He sighed and attempted again to speak but to no avail. Still shaken up and somewhat frustrated he tried to think of a way to pantomime enough of what happened to get his point across, though that was its own challenge. Seeming to sense he was incapable of regular speech she tried to help.</p><p>“Did...did you have some kind or dream or whatever it was again?” she asked and sighed heavily when he nodded, “well that's not good, you just fell and...wouldn't wake up for a few minutes, it wasn't very long but...i was going to go and get help but you finally woke up before i could. I...i think you should lay down or something.” he shook his head again but she didn't see as she was already unlocking her door. He figured he could protest there but when they walked inside they were not in the room but entering the lobby of the apartments.</p><p>“What the hell?” Eileen looked around startled, “but..we were upstairs..” she closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “Ok, I don't like this funhouse shit even a little. I guess,” she seemed to think for a moment before just setting her hands on her hips, “i guess we might as well just try again. Nothing else to do right?” </p><p>She turned to look at Henry when he made a soft noncommittal noise, she seemed to be scrutinizing his expression for any hint as to how he was doing, he knew she found nothing, nobody ever did when he was as stressed as he was now. Or even normally. She nodded slightly after a moment seeming to reach for his hand but not far enough to make it strange if he rejected it, which he sort of did by way of letting it hang there. They headed towards the stairs but, as if there were some omniscient being watching them and playing some cruel joke on them, there was a loud creaking noise, a shifting sound, and something that sounded sort of like a siren, but not like the ones before, this one was lower, longer and more ominous. It sounded less like it was in his head, and more like it was far in the distance and was getting louder like a car horn as it approached a person in the road, a person that could do nothing but stare wide eyes at the vehicle approaching at unstable speeds. </p><p>The floor flaked away rising upwards as did the wall paper and even chunks of the world itself revealing old fleshy or rotten fixtures, like one was peeling skin from the bone. Metal bars were there where there had been none before, the old mahogany floorboards now blood red and decomposing. The light came only from a decrepit handing bulb, the chains holding it to the ceiling looked like they were about to crumble and fall. Once everything was done being stripped away by the desperate clawing hands of something unseen, all that was left was a hellish dream world that was as real as the widened eyes now ogling it in shock. There was a body hanging from the ceiling right next to the light in a rusted cage it's arms bound behind it, it looked like a feminine human body, it's breasts clamped by roped and pulled upwards in a way that made both living people looking at it wince slightly, it's face obscured by a dark reddish mask, pointed like plague doctors of the past, but certainly if this thing had once been a doctor her expertise was of no use to anyone now. Henry tore his eyes from it, looking only at the heavy iron doors that might lead to the first floor apartments and outside or could lead to anywhere else, completely baffled by everything he was seeing. </p><p>“Oh...god what...what the <em>fuck</em> is going on?” Eileen’s expression was one of abject terror, she looked like she might cry and Henry really didn't want her to do that as he had no idea what he’d do if she did, hell he might cry himself he felt so numbly horrified as if everything was crashing in on him at once and he was forced to feel all of it or none of it and his body couldn't choose which one. She buried her head in her hands and stood there trying to get a hold of herself and Henry couldn't force himself to comfort her, he couldn't talk, he couldn't bring himself to touch her much as he wanted to in a way to try and soothe her worries. He was himself, that was to say, alienated from her like the ripping of the world around him to shreds had set up a wall between the two of them. A wall he should have known would come back up. She sighed eventually and looked around, her eyes were watering. </p><p>“Ok...ok i don't know, maybe we should...just look around..” she said shakily, “i think...i think we should see if we can find anybody, like...like Mr. Sunderland or..or something.” he nodded and they slowly made their way to the side of the apartments where the superintendent's room was, trying to step around anything that looked too gross or bloody. They managed the door with some teamwork, and luckily they ended up in the right place, the long hallway on unsteady boards with a few breaks in it, only metal below it. The walls looked to be the texture of raw meat and they pulsated, covered in blood and mucus, and for some reason it appeared to be blurry as if it were being viewed through a dirty lense. Henry felt sick looking at it, wondering what the hell had happened to this place, and tried to follow Eileen who was staring at the floor and trying to avoid the walls. Luckily the super’s door was close. Neither of them wanted to walk around this area for too long.</p><p>They approached his door and knocked, only to hear what sounded like arguments behind it, it sounded almost like Frank, but his voice was different, in a way Henry couldn't seem to put his finger on. There was another voice, a very quiet one that almost sounded like it was arguing back but faint, and clearly losing the verbal fight that, though he couldn't hear the actual words being said, Henry was sure was becoming only battering given to the smaller person. A gift they surely didn't want or appreciate. He felt awful hearing it, shaky again like he was listening to those voices behind the door in his dream, it sounded familiar in that way and he inexplicably empathized with this smaller voice. Eileen went to knock again, seeming concerned though not apprehensive but Henry, who couldn't stand to be faced with whatever was behind this door, gently touched her wrist and shook his head.</p><p>“What's wrong?”</p><p>“M-maybe...we sh-should...check somewhere else…” he managed unsure of how he was able to speak but was at least grateful he had. She seemed confused but just nodded and they slowly turned away from the door just as Henry heard something glass break behind it. He shuddered, hoping the smaller person was okay, though part of him knew or hoped that it wasn't real, or at least not as real as him and Eileen. She didn't seem to notice the violence behind the door. Something that didn't help him feel less crazy but gave credence to the theory that what he had heard wasn't happening, though he wondered if it mirrored something that once had happened, he remembered his mother saying that houses remember violence, he wondered if she was right. </p><p>They made their way backwards, Henry noting that there was a strange set of noises emanating from the walls once they were back in the main lobby, a long droning ache, and occasionally the pained gasping of what sound like a woman though what was happening to her he couldn't say, and didn't want to. He wondered if this was the noise Eileen had talked about, she seemed to be able to hear it as when the woman's voice gasped she flinched slightly. He didn't ask her about it. </p><p>“Maybe we should uhm...go upstairs and maybe i dunno, figure out what going on, maybe see if there's something in your room-”</p><p>“No.” Henry said and when she looked back at him startled he tried to find an explanation, good going Henry, he thought as he struggled to speak again, why couldn't he ever be consistent. <em>Pick one or the other, you can't be both</em> a voice repeated something from years ago, He sighed, ignoring the voice, and tried to wet his dry mouth. </p><p>“I..after last time...i don't think it's a good idea.” he managed, “yknow..there..the door might not even work and i..i don't want to-to have to go back through the h-hole again.” she frowned but after a moment just nodded. </p><p>“Yeah alright...Maybe Mr. Sunderland is on the second floor or something. I need to know if he's ok or can see any of this…” she said quietly, “or..or the kids, and their families that live here. Hell even Richard...” he hummed softly and the two of them made their way to the second floor, the floors creaking under them as they approached one of the doors. </p><p>Upon opening it, they saw nothing but the same disgusting walls and floorboards. Even more garbage on this floor in what was already the dirtiest most unkempt area of the apartments. They slowly walked and tried not to talk too much as there was nothing to say about everything they were seeing, and neither of them was really in the right headspace to do so anyways. No other living being appeared to have gone through here, as if it were abandoned even though he was sure he could hear heavy footsteps when they rounded the corner. Eileen suddenly stopped in her tracks. </p><p>“Wait...do you hear that?” she murmured, the two of them straining to decipher the sounds, “it...it sounds like a baby, or little kids..oh no…” she turned to one of the rooms staring fearful. “That's were...all the kids live..”</p><p>Henry heard the sounds she was referring to, crying children asking for mommy, for daddy for any adult, and they stood there for one, two heartbeats before Eileen ran over and pried open the door rushing in. Henry froze but managed to force himself forward into the room. It was a standard apartment for the building, but here the walls were nearly filled with crayon and markers, covering every inch of the walls and floor, places no child could reach. Their furniture was dirty and there were toys everywhere and a baby crib pushed against the wall, what might've been a familiar ‘toy’ sitting inside of it. Seeing this he shuddered and turned his attention to the hallway where Eileen must've gone. The crayon and marker drawings on the wall depicting nothing in particular except scribbled chaos made his head hurt and he didn't want to dwell on it any longer than he had to. He saw Eileen backing out of a room and when he peered into the room he froze as well. </p><p>Inside the cramped room were three bunk beds and an oddly loney color of blue for the carpet and wallpaper, fairly standard all things considered. Henry was about to wonder why people who found it necessary to have three bunk beds in one room would live in apartments like this, or why they'd continue to have children, but something else starkly drew his attention away from any thoughts otherwise. </p><p>A medium sized dog, no, not quite a dog but something more like the shadow of a corpse of a dog shambled towards him, it was yellow-green in color and rotting, patches of skin and flesh nearly falling off of it as it was exposed to the elements. It had no eyes, barely any sockets where they should be and warped, cracked skin with no nostrils. Its mouth looked more like a vipers than a dogs, with large teeth making a cage around a tube of flesh that presumably was it's tongue. A tongue that lolled out of its mouth like the tail of a rat. Saliva dripped from the tongue and pooled under it, as did blood, And it walked toward him with intent to harm, growling rumbled from it's disgusting throat, it was trying to slurp the drool and blood up from the tongue like the awful fleshy mass was a straw of some kind. </p><p>“Henry!”  a voice behind him snapped him from his panic induced paralysis and the dog-creature lunged at him, Henry with no hesitation swung his fist and made contact with its head, a yelp escaping from its throat as it was knocked sideways, but this thing was not to be taken out so easily. It scrambled to its feet and Henry in a panic whipped around, grabbing Eileen's arm and dragging her out of the hallway, another of these dogs appeared from under the table in the living room as the first one snarled in a way that sounded more like a lion than a dog. In a frenzy the two of them ran out of the room, slamming the door behind them. Panting and huffing with their backs to it. </p><p>“No fuck this, lets get out of here.” she said, out of breath, her face flushed with adrenaline even as Henry heard the awful dogs beating on the doors with their mangled bodies and more snarling from the chimaera like abonications coming closer from somewhere else down the hallways. Henry nodded aggressively. </p><p>They half ran half jogged away from the second floor, Henry having to slow down periodically as evidently he was a lot faster then her, they saw more dogs on the first floor and were as quick and quiet as they could be to get upstairs to the third floor without alerting them, four legs are always much faster than two and it would have taken the creatures no time to run up the stairs. Henry had no idea where these dogs had come from, it was almost like they had just appeared inside, but now was not the time to deal with it. It didn't matter right now. </p><p>When they made their way to the third floor, there were two dogs lying in front of Henry’s door, luckily not noticing them,so the two of them softly slipped inside her apartment, Eileen locking the door behind her, sighing deeply as she slid to the floor and sat there with her eyes closed.</p><p> He stood there unsure of what to do, trying to calm down as unlike the rest of the building her room seemed genuinely safe. she wasn't crying but was just quiet and then stood up after a few moments of trying to gather herself. He wished he could be so resilient, though all of this was clearly weighing on her, her shoulders sagged as if the enormity of the hell she'd just seen rested on them.</p><p>“Well..well make yourself at home i..i guess.” she chuckled weakly, her eyes heavy and tired as she wandered into her house, sitting down and sighing softly. </p><p>Her apartment was rather cute, Henry looked around but felt a little too uncomfortable to walk any further into the room, the wallpaper was a bright cheery yellow and there was a nice rug covering the ugly carpet that Henry also had (why his room was the only one he had seen that had the ugly white walls stained with god knew what he couldn't know) she had cute furniture, a small older looking TV, and a strange rack that looked like it had been taken straight from a department store or something and he wondered how the hell Eileen got it, though it did have some dresses and shirts hanging up on it. She had a few potted plants on tables as well as in the kitchen and for whatever reason her microwave was on top of the fridge, though he wasn't sure how she could reach it given that she was nearly a foot shorter than him and the fridges were somewhat close to his height. Otherwise it was just as homely and personable as her car, a medium sized Robbie Rabbit doll sat on the table, not that he wanted to be reminded of that thing, and when she sat down she had grabbed it and hugged it softly. Henry stayed in the doorway and looking around feeling rather uncomfortable, she met his eye briefly and opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted. </p><p>The phone rang, and Eileen frowned but set her doll down, stood up and walked over to it picking up the receiver with a cautious “hello?” her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. Henry didn’t want to eavesdrop but he couldn't seem not to, what the hell else was he supposed to do? He didn't have anywhere else to go and he didn't feel like facing those dogs outside. So he also, though much awkwardly, leaned against the wall and tried to keep his eyes off of her, instead making unwanted eye contact with the rabbit doll. God he hated that thing. </p><p>“Oh hey...oh no i'm..i'm sorry i didn't mean to leave you hanging i, well something came up,” she looked around with a sigh, “i can't, i can't really explain it right now i'm sorry. But, yeah i'll talk to you about it later and try to explain it if i can. I know i'm sorry. Yeah it's just-” she gestured outward exasperated, “yeah, where are you now? Oh...hm. Yeah no that's fine just, you can stay there if you want but i don't know when i'll be back. Sure sure, uhm...just make sure to lock the door if you go. Ok, sorry again, yeah. Bye..” she set the phone back down and rubbed her eyes still leaning against the wall while she tried to think.</p><p>“Well Henry, i think,” she started, standing up straight again with something like determination in her gaze, “that we need to find and talk to Walter.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Traversing The Portals Of Reality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[But while I am lying here<br/>Trying to fight the tears<br/>I'll prove to the crowd that I come out stronger<br/>Though I think I might lie here a little longer]</p><p>The perilous balance between dreams and reality</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Annnnnd we have some lovely friends and some other..less then friendly pals <br/>Thanks for all the support for real i adore the comments so much :3! Please sont feel bad abour leaving them.  Stay safe and happy holiday weekend!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whatever Henry expected Eileen to come out of her room holding a, presumably loaded, handgun was not at all one of them. He must've looked surprised as when she glanced over at him she gently set it down on the counter, specifically pointed away from him. </p><p>“Hey don't worry about it. I just...figured we might as well make some use out of my, my dad's old gift hm." She grimaced a little, and then sighed and went to one of her side tables, pulling out a small box of ammo, and stuffing it into one of the large pockets of her unbuttoned sweater. That she had this and ammo for it was surprising, he wondered if her dad had taught her how to use it, and then wondered what their relationship was like. She didn't seem happy to think about it.</p><p>“I figure it'll work against those damn dogs or whatever. I don't like guns, but you gotta do what you gotta do.” she muttered, running her hands through her hair, she glanced at him, “unless...you wanna use it, I only have so much experience so if you have more...”</p><p>“N-no i think you should have it i..i don't, wanna..mess with it.” Henry eyed the weapon, nervously, he didn't like what it reminded him of. “I don't know how…”</p><p>“Yeah, fair.” she hummed and put the gun in a different pocket of hers, “but...i don't think you should go out unarmed... i don't have anything else to use. Really shoulda kept my softball bat hm..”</p><p>“Uhm...it's ok, I could…” he glanced around and found an empty wine bottle on the counter that she must've forgotten to throw out, grabbing it by the handle he shifted its weight around in his hand to sort of get a feel for it, though he didn't know what he was feeling for, he'd never had to arm himself for any reason. “If you...don't mind I could use this.”</p><p>She looked at him and then back at the bottle, and then shrugged, appearing to be a little unconvinced of his ability to do anything with it. Granted he was just as doubtful but was unable to think of another solution and the memory of punching one of the dogs in the head popped into his thoughts, he guessed if he could do that the bottle was fine for now. </p><p>“Well, if it’ll work you should take it. I don't have a plan exactly, I guess we should go and see if Walter's in his room or something, and then I don't know, if we can't find him there we’ll look around i guess. I just get this feeling like we have to find him, I think he knows more about this than he’s said and I think it's time he spoke up.” She nodded firmly, “y'know...i'm wondering if everyone was right about him…”</p><p>“Hm...maybe. I think he might be able to tell us something at least.” Henry agreed, somewhat unsure of what was telling him this either, but he also wanted to talk to him about it. Something about what he said in that dreamscape before, about it being some amalgamation of memories and him asking about Henry’s connection to Silent Hill, it was suspicious in a way Henry couldn't place. In his opinion Walter sure acted like he knew something. Henry had the feeling that their ignorance wasn't doing them any favors, but also figured he'd be hesitant to tell them. He thought of how scared Walter was of Richard’s gun, and though he was ashamed of it, he figured if they really had to, he'd likely tell them whatever they wanted to hear if they threatened him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.</p><p>She nodded and looked around for a moment with a sigh, as if taking inventory of her apartment hoping to find an excuse to stay, and then headed to the door, unlocking it and stepping out, Henry right behind her, the grip on the wine bottle was hard and his hand was sweating. He braced himself to hear that snarling again. </p><p>Nothing came, nothing at all, he looked around and in shock saw the two dogs in front of his door, now dead. He approached them out of a morbid curiosity, both corpses were bleeding everywhere and the dogs twitched occasionally but they weren't getting up anytime soon, not with the bullet holes in their heads. He shuddered, feeling sick. </p><p>“Jesus...i wonder what happened…” Eileen muttered, she stood only a foot away from him looking down at the corpses but not getting too much closer, “well...i mean it's obvious i guess..what happened but...how did it happen without us hearing it? The only person with a gun that I know is Richard...”  </p><p>“...hopefully they're not still around.” Henry wondered as well, it could've been Richard he guessed but, his revolver was likely really loud. Maybe someone else had a gun? Probably not Walter, there was a guy who really liked guns who lived on the first floor so it could've been him, but he never came upstairs. The only other person he could think of was possibly Frank, he remembered him vaguely rambling about being deployed before so it's likely he knew how to use a gun at least, but somehow he couldn't imagine he still had one, or would have cared to come and actually deal with something like this, not without saying something to Eileen. Nobody else came to mind, then again he would never have suspected that she would have a gun, so he really couldn't say for sure. </p><p>They stepped over the already rotting dogs after a brief vigil and made their way to room 301, they stood there quietly for a moment, different than when they hesitated to go inside her room, it was almost like they didn't wanna know what Walter would tell them. Henry reached out and knocked on his door, far too quietly but he didn't want to alert any other dogs and didn't know how to be louder. They waited, several seconds, and Eileen reached over and knocked on the door again, more silence. </p><p>“Well, he usually comes to the door by now so...i guess he's probably not home…” she said, “unless he's not even in this...weird world or wherever we are. But..like you said before this has something to do with all three of us so, I kinda figure he's gotta be here right?” </p><p>“...maybe he's downstairs. “ Henry suggested, and though they'd already been there before, he had a feeling there would be something there this time, as if there was a little voice offering vague clues to him, moving him along on a path he didn't want to travel, though he ultimately had no choice.</p><p>“I guess we can look. Better now that we can defend ourselves at least.” she muttered, the two of them turning and walking past Henry's door, he thought he could hear fists pounding on it, and rattling the chains, but as Eileen didn't take any notice of this, he figured it was an illusion. He thought of Joseph, and wondered if this was what he had meant when he talked about another version of his, or rather their, apartment, but even if Joseph was here, Henry doubted he could let him out of that room. Thus, he ignored it, it might not even be Joseph, maybe it was a trick or another monster. He couldn't take that chance, even if he'd wanted to help the other man, which certainly wasn't the first thing on his to do list. </p><p>Their trek downstairs was mostly uneventful, Henry noted the thing hanging from the ceiling was swinging slightly despite the lack of any moving air, like the world's best and most inappropriate Halloween decoration, he couldn't even tell if this thing was a monster or just mere trauma fodder from this very real dreamscape. He briefly wondered if they were in hell, maybe they hadn't survived the car ride home, but that made no sense, at least he didn't think it did. Wouldn't hell at least tell them they had made it there? God, in his opinion, had always seemed very keen on letting people know when they were condemned, giving them a list of things to expect from their torment, he was very upfront. Henry would have appreciated that if he still believed that god was real, he genuinely didn't, he just didn't have any other frame of reference for how to take any of this, and maybe the childhood of being told time and time again that hell and god, the devil, and sin were all real and tangible was still a festering wound in the back of his mind. </p><p>He stopped having time to reminisce on church services that were unknowingly convicting him to an eternity of fire and agony, when he saw the large, perfectly circular hole on the far wall. He stared at it, transfixed as Eileen kept walking and looking around.</p><p>“Hm..we didn't check the other side last time...Henry?” she glanced back at him staring at the hole, around the edges were two circles and symbols he didn't recognize, there were a few that seemed familiar, like an eye on the top, but not much else made sense. He heard strange noises from the hole, like long car horns and distant malicious chattering of people, and distant popping that could've been fireworks or could have been gunshots. </p><p>“Henry?” Eileen's hand on his shoulder startled him and he turned around to look at her, feeling a little hazy like he'd just woken up. </p><p>“I think we can...i think we should go through the hole.” Henry said pointing at it, Eileen gave him a strange look, as though she didn't understand what he was talking about and was concerned. </p><p>“Hole? What do you mean Henry?” she frowned, keeping her hand on her shoulder. He pointed again, all of this feeling very familiar.</p><p>“I, there's…” he turned to look at it, walking closer and setting his hand on the edge, he felt like there were cold fingers trying to grab his own and pull him in. “we gotta go through it...i...i think he could be there.”</p><p>“I don't know what you mean, are you ok?” Eileen walked closer, she looked almost scared. He tried to remember what Walter had done, and wondered again if Walter had anything to do with it, they'd just held hands he thought but Eileen was already touching him so that couldn't be it.</p><p>“Maybe you should lay down, I don't see anything.” She gently took his hand and seemed to want to lead him away,but he stood firm, he <em>knew</em> they had to go through that hole, he didn't know why, or how he knew that, but the whispering calling him inside told him he needed to. </p><p>“No i..we have to go through the hole, i know that...doesn't make sense but we just..have to.” Henry shook his head and took a deep breath. Maybe if he tried to crawl inside and help her follow him through it, it was the only thing he could think to do. He untangled his hand from hers and turned around pulling himself into the hole and sitting on the edge of it, Eileen blinked looking confused and even concerned,he reached forward.</p><p>"Just...trust me, i think i can bring you with...or i can try at least..” he said and she paused for a long while as though she were deliberating between arguing with him or humoring him. She sighed, her eyes closed and sure Henry would normally be a bit aggravated with someone handling him as though he were a child, but now wasn't the time to deal with it. He did seem insane. </p><p>“Alright Henry but if this doesn't work out I think you should lay down or sit for a bit ok?” she said gently and he simply nodded, if he was right, she would see he the evidence, if he was wrong well, he likely did need to lay down. She took his hand and he maneuvered himself inside the hole so he could sort of make room for her. She still seemed confused and bumped into the side of the wall.</p><p>“Here,” he uncomfortably took her other hand and helped her up after setting down the wine bottle. He hoped she didn't notice his sweating hands, but likely she didn't, she seemed baffled by what was happening too much to care about something like that..</p><p>“Henry where…” </p><p>“Just..follow me ok?” he paused after interrupting, hand reaching to grab his pitiful weapon, but she nodded in bewilderment. The hole was too small for him to turn himself around so it was an awkward bout of backing away from her, he couldn't see her in the darkness. He heard the raucous noise from behind him getting louder and his mind getting fuzzier and before he became unconscious again he wondered what exactly Eileen was seeing. He guessed he'd have to ask her later. Much later. </p><p>It was darkness enveloping his vision instead of bright painful light.</p><p>Henry blinked and looked around, head ringing like he'd smacked it against a doorway, icy impersonal concrete against his spine, and the unmistakable feeling of becoming conscious after an exhausting breakdown. He was sweating and freezing and there was some sort of ache in his chest as though it were bruised. He sat up and looked around, he was in a back alley somewhere, nowhere he recognized, not that it narrowed it down. Garbage littered the area and it was wet, above him a destroyed staircase with an open door, a bright light emanating from it like heaven's gate had rejected him and spat him onto the ground. He really had to take his mind off of god, He also had to get off the floor; it was disgusting back here and he didn't want it to touch him anymore, but his head spun when he stood as though he was sick. Nauseous gurgling in his stomach and he realized that his joints hurt, age that wasn't there showing. There was nothing of any notice around here, another filled in hole in the wall along a cold narrow alley, he looked up and saw nothing but blackness; it appeared as though he were somewhere in the city. Eileen was nowhere to be seen. Scared for her well being he made his way down the alley, slowly trying to work out the stiffness in bones and tendons not yet old enough for it, the strange noises persisted. High pitched echoed voices, like sped up chattering of adult men mocking someone, and clanking along the walls and the occasional whoop of something unidentifiable. Henry didn't like the overwhelming sensation in his still sensitive ears but there was nothing to be done about it.</p><p>He wondered where Eileen had woken up, he wondered where the hell she was, he shifted the bottle to his other hand, it was so warm from where he'd been gripping it that it almost felt human. The environment was starting to look like downtown south Ashfield. It occurred to him that it looked like a more urban version of his parents’ neighborhood ,dilapidated and unloved, he shook the thought from his mind. Now wasn't the time, then again, when was the time? It didn't matter. </p><p>Rounding the corner he found he was not at all on the ground level like he'd thought, but rather something akin to a parking garage on the roof of a building that didn't exist. He was on top of Hotel South Ashfield as evidenced by the huge neon sign in front of him, except there was a beaten-up car here and when he approached the edge of the roof there was nothing in the thick palatably black void. Absolutely nothing as if the world was completely untethered from anyone sane’s description of reality. Henry felt a deep, painful swoop in his stomach as he couldn't rationalize this to himself, he was paralyzed from horror as he looked on, he couldn't breathe. It made no sense to him. Terror. Pure unfiltered, animalistic, terror. </p><p>He backed away, the dreamscape didn't have to make sense to him of course and god he didn't know why but the simple impossibility of what he had been looking at threw his mind for a loop. In some vague illness he wondered what would happen if he fell. Down into nothing he imagined seeing the windows rise above him, and a void or maybe a flat surface below him that he would splatter against  like a fly on a windshield. He shook the thought from his mind and turned his attention elsewhere. </p><p>There was a door in the other wall, two doors in fact, one of them had that same symbol on it from around the hole except the middle contained three smaller circles inside it. He approached it and tried the door but it was locked, and though he tried to wiggle it to make sure, he didn't feel like trying to force it. So with a shake of his head he figured that bit of curiosity would have to go unanswered, dispute his obsessive nature. He turned to the other door behind the broken car, he glanced inside it when he passed by, and saw a wet, heavily annotated map in the driver's seat, this door too proved to be unyielding and though he could tell it was a map and that several notes had been made in bright red marker all over it, he couldn't read anything through the filthy, dust tinted windows. Yet another thing to ignore. To his great luck he could open the other door at least, it appeared to a front door to a residence and he realized he was walking into someone's apartment, he didn't like this but all of the doors along this hallway were shut tight, the only exit ahead of him, he guessed he could pretend he was lost or made a mistake if anyone caught him. </p><p>He was lucky and unlucky that he didn't have to. </p><p>The room opened into a dining area and some other fixtures like a small television, decorations all about him as if it were somebody's birthday. Balloons, a cake in the center of the table also covered with confetti and plates, chips and wine, it was all very festive and gave Henry something like a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He looked over at the cake and it strangely seemed fresh though he couldn't figure out how he could've known this. Besides reminiscing on birthdays he'd never had, there was another feeling here, as though the room was in some kind of perpetual state of waiting, waiting for something. Waiting for someone for an action to be taken. Henry didn't know what it was but there was something unnerving about it, a feeling of fear, foreboding. </p><p>Henry didn't like this room, he felt like he'd keel over and die if he even dared to touch the cake on the table. Not that he could’ve eaten now with his stomach more tied up than a headphone cord haphazardly shoved into a drawer or bag. He left through the door leading into the next room, though he felt strangely bleary when he passed through the doorway, he found he was out on asphalt again, more cars along this strange roof area, he felt an inane feeling of relief when he was out of the room at least. It was wrong somehow, though out here wasn't any more right. </p><p>He kept wandering, aimless, trying not to look down at or anywhere near the edges. At one point he stopped and bent over seeing  something strange on the concrete  only to realize  it was a discarded joint, he wondered who would've  just tossed it here, unless it had been dropped on accident, but either way had the strangest feeling like it was important somehow. He did sorely miss the stuff but this pathetically rolled joint was too damp to bother with so he moved onward without it.</p><p>He couldn't quite figure out where he even was, somewhere in town surely. it almost seemed like he was on the ground floor but he had no idea how. Or if there even was a ground floor at all. This was all vauge speculation, The only important thought he had on his mind was Eileen, he didn't even care about Walter at the moment because he was sure if he even was here, he'd be perfectly fine by himself, his size and the sheer strength of him ripping things off of doorways came to mind. Eileen did have a gun sure, but she was so small and besides, he was nervous himself and for once really wanted someone around.  </p><p>He heard a strange noise from around the corner ahead of him and he was both confused and apprehensive, it sounded like an animalistic growl, like one he would hear at a zoo. He approached the corner tenitive, bottle in hand as he peered around the jagged concrete edge. His heart jumping in his throat as he quickly backed away in horror.</p><p>A creature hopped forward on its four limbs and then stood and stared at him, or tried to. It was as tall as Henry, though hunched slightly and its entire body was a white fleshy tone like it had skinned a person and worn it over itself. In fact it looked like an ape draped in a human's flesh, its face melted down to its chest into a huge jowl of some kind, bulbous and pulsating and it had no eyes or mouth, just sockets with skin stretched over it and a crooked nose, with human ears. Red veins under its skin pulsating, human hands and feet and Henry heard its strange chirping like a curious monkey presented with a toy. </p><p>Henry stared at it in abject horror while it seemed to regard him with puzzled interest, he heard a clash from behind the ape before he could register what to do and looked up to see three more of the creatures, two nearly identical to the one in front of him, and one more that was so, so much worse. </p><p>Its skin greyed and deadened, its face less melted, and more defined but with deeper, emptier eye sockets, the huge jowl red and agitated looking like heart of some kind, its legs black as the sky above them like it had splashed around in tar, in one decaying fist it held a golf club and the way its head bobbed side to side like a disgusting pendulum as it walked on two legs was as hypnotizing as it was sickening. </p><p>Henry backed away from the four amalgamations of Darwin's worst evolutionary nightmare until he hit another car, in a panic he tried to wrench the door open but it was as stuck as the car door from earlier, he wasn't sure what he thought was going to happen, just that he really would prefer twelve thousand pounds of metal between him and these beasts as soon as possible. The creatures still walked forward in a menacing way, he didn't want to think about what they'd do to him, especially the one with the golf club, if they reached him. Breath in shallow gasps, he saw the first one seem to ready itself like a cat attempting to pounce, he remembered the bottle in his hand, and made a decision. </p><p>The beast leaped with a roar and with all the strength in both arms he swung the bottle at the creature's head and heard a loud dull thud and a scream of pain from it. The force of the impact knocked him off balance slightly and he was thrown to the floor a moment later. The creature pulled itself to its feet far too quickly and off on his right side another one of them hurled itself closer. The one he’d hit pounced on his chest knocking whatever wind he’d had left out of him as he tried to wiggle free, the ape grabbed the bottle and they engaged in a frankly terrifying bout of tug of war. If Henry hadn't been holding the rigid neck of the bottle he was sure he'd have lost his one weapon. </p><p>If there was a god, if luck was real or if karma decided he'd been nice enough to say the old couple who lived in 304, it didn't matter, because the truth was these apes, while huge and dangerous, weren't all that smart. The tar colored ape swung its club and evidently couldn't tell man from the monkey and smacked its brother upside the head. The ape on his chest squealed in pain and rage and lost all interest in Henry, launching itself at the other ape who swung again with an impressive range that might've gotten it a hole in one, if it knew how to aim, knocking Henry's aggressor to the ground before it began beating its brethren, pummuling it as hard as it could as blood and chunks of flesh flung outward while the two other apes watched the violence, cheerfully chattering as the victim screeched in pain. </p><p>Henry scrambled to his feet and tried not to freeze (or vomit at the clear smell of, well, shit that seemed to emit from the creatures, they were apes but the scent he hadn't bothered to even register before made him want to puke) watching the apes cheer while their brethren clubbed the offending creature to death. It cried out, begging for mercy that it was not granted. Henry in a panic ran around the creatures, but one of the apes evidently was bored of the violence or more interested in fast moving figures; it began sprinting at him, Henry realized he had a split second decision to make, the bottle in his hand was weighted by panic, and the approaching disgusting face that launched itself at him gave him the vigor to do what he had to. </p><p>With a quick pause and as much violence as he could muster, he pulled himself in a stance similar to the old softball ones he was supposed to learn how to do properly in gym class  and never bothered  <br/>with, and swung as hard as he could with some aggressive grunt escaping his chest. The sound of glass shattering and ape screeching prompted him to open his eyes and see the creature writhing and screaming on the ground, clawing at its face that was bleeding and covered in glass. The bottle was shattered looking now like a shank of some sort, but unfortunately for him another of the fleshy apes ran forward, in some animal instinct that took over Henry managed to sidestep and deliver a kick that sent the thing flying, taking the sharpened tool in hand he rolled the creature onto its back and plunged the bottle deep through the fleshy bulb on its chest. A brief heartbeat of time and then a thick spurt of blood sprayed outwards, covering his hands and ruining his sweater (sure it was already red but not that shade or red god damn it) his hand slick and sticky but the creature that had been gurgling and screaming died.</p><p>The rattling breath in his throat was slightly jarring for whatever reason, he guessed he hadn't noticed his body reacting to whatever was going on. Before he could calm down he noticed the other ape had finished ripping its brother in pieces and gotten bored, blood dripped from its hands and soaked its golf club, and it began to approach him. Henry in fear attempted to yank his weapon out of the corpse but it was stuck and he realized he stood no chance against this thing, not with its long ranged weapon and cruel curiosity of what his innards would look like played out next to its brother. He saw more fleshy apes crawl out of behind the area he had come from and he finally forced his legs to move. Turning on his heel and sprinting down an alley, as fast as he could, his now shuddering pained breathing and the strain on his legs not deterring his marathon. When he rounded the corner he saw a large metal staircase heading upwards towards the top of the building. </p><p>He swung his way around and began sprinting up the stairs, resisting the urge to run on his hands as it likely wouldn't make him go any faster though he felt like he was going to fall over. Round the second story, He nearly fell backwards when an ape jumped in front of him seeming to have come from nowhere, it screamed and chattered, and Henry couldn't exactly get around it. An idea formed and was executed almost as quickly. He flattened his body against the railing and slammed his leg against the monkey’s shin, forcing it forward as it tumbled downward head over feet with a scream. The club wielding monkey was smacked with the weight of its cousin and careened off the side of the stairs he heard chittering, and loud wet squalch, and then silence. Henry wasn't convinced that it had been enough to kill it and didn't stop running until he made it to the door at the top of them, ramming his shoulder into it with his fist over the cold handle. He almost wanted to cry when it thankfully gave way with no effort. He slammed the door shut and managed to find a lock. Sure it wouldn't stop the apes fully but he couldn't breathe enough to think of something like that. </p><p>He stood there wheezing, his ribs and lungs struggling for air and straining against one another. His legs felt like they were on fucking fire and he sorely wanted to lay down and pass the hell out. He hadn't run that far or that fast since highschool. He sat down against the door and closed his eyes, trying his best to calm his erratically beating heart. The stickiness on his hands was unnerving, blood was a specific feeling he hated on his hands, he had a few punches to his nose that’d resulted in way too much blood, not to mention from his arms and legs, the tacky feeling was gross, but more palatable than dying he guessed. Strange almost that the ape’s had human blood, though he wasn't sure why he would think any different. That was stupid. Just focus on reality, whatever that even was anymore. </p><p>Though he couldn't help but be reminded of the last time he'd run so far and so fast. In his desire to calm down something upsetting of course had to be dredged up. High school, what a time it had been. An awful awful time certainly, well all of school had been a nightmare and a half and he guessed that was why higher education always eluded him, that and funds. But it all peaked in high-school, what with budding dissillusionment about a body he'd never liked and the narrowing in of peers scared of themselves or just bullies and so fucking happy to find an easy target, a weirdo and outcast someone who wouldn't fight back, yeah that school was a cess pool of suffering and if he held any more resentment for it he was gonna start seeing it in the holes. He shuddered at the thought. </p><p>But the last time he ran for his life hadn't been a student's fault, not to say that hadn't happened as it certainly had, but after an incident when he was fifteen or so he stopped running so hard, he was fast, always had been, and the incident showed him he could outrun four legs, no need to try so hard against two. But that incident with the neighbor's dogs was permanently carved into the cave walls of his memories. They didn't chain their dogs up properly, nor did they care to discipline, love or hell even wash their kids. Those kids were meaner than a badger with a stick up its ass and the dogs matched their personalities of throwing rocks at other children on their bikes to a T. Henry could almost feel bad for the kids, about four or five of them crammed into a two bedroom house, forced outside by a mom who drank too much and didn't want a damn thing to do with them. All the boys had shaved heads and the couple of girls had horrible knots in their hair. But he could only feel so bad, they'd taught him a few new words for various people they found offensiely gay and a few others that weren't even remotely relevant to him and not in any educational sense, and they also showed him what it was like to be shoved off a bike into piles of gravel, a lesson they felt necessary to reinforce several times. Most importantly they egged their dogs on, two small ratty beasts always loosely tied to some shoddily pushed in pike in the earth, there was no grass in their yard anymore. Really Henry could almost feel bad for them too, except that for a good six years they chased him relentlessly through the neighborhood. They seemed to have it out for him specifically, and he'd gotten a few nasty bites over the years. He had some slightly irrational fear of them chewing his eyes out and thus he couldn't seem to stop that spike of terror when he saw the malnourished little beasts. </p><p>That day he'd been tired, he hadn't slept, his parents fighting and devolved into holes punched in drywall and when he'd ran off from the little rats he'd turned the wrong way. He could jump the fence, he'd done it before but when he did this time one of the dogs held fast to his ankle and the other was leaping closer to his other leg, in some pent up rage and genuine fearful adrenaline he'd kicked them both really hard. The squeals still bounced around his thoughts from time to time and made him feel awful, remembering them turning tail and running off while he let go of the fence and crouched down to look at yet another dog bite in his leg. For his part at least it was the last one he'd had. </p><p>The memory had cropped up suddenly, an unwanted visitor knocking on his door til he at least begrudgingly acknowledged it, he didn't like that it had shown up though, he was in no mood now or ever to examine memories under a microscope and realize how awful they were. He knew they were bad, and he didn't want to know that. It wasn't like he was pretending he had an idyllic childhood but rather pretending there was nothing specific about it that hurt. It just wasn't sentimental, that was all. </p><p>Plenty of people didn't have good childhood memories. He was sure of it. Not that he cared to ask an actual person, the hypothetical people that agreed with him were proof enough.</p><p>Regardless, he had calmed enough to stand, the room itself was empty, it looked like an old storage area, with nothing on the four of five sleeves here and slime on the walls, he was a little grossed out by this ooze but otherwise the room and its lack of anything didn't inspire any feelings in him, no he barely spared it a second thought as he was more concerned about the very real worry of Eileen coming across those apes. He had to find her, he needed her presence more than she needed his for sure. Still he wanted to tell himself it wasn't cowardice. </p><p>The next room was a sports store, he didn't think he'd ever been here before but there wasn't time to care about that, not when there was a body on the floor. </p><p>It was clearly Walter, lying facedown on the linoleum like he'd passed out or been shot, Henry ran over and kneeled down to touch him, hoping he wasn't dead, genuinely scared for him in spite of any misgivings. He rolled him onto his back with some effort, as his heavy limbs were made heavier by not cooperating, he looked relatively serene like he laid down here for a nap of his own volition, it was almost creepy. He reached around looking for a pulse or breathing, he found him breathing at least thank god. He didn't think of it now but it was almost strange to remember the reverse of this only a few days before. Henry gently shook his shoulders, not wanting to be alone and knowing he wouldn't be able to move on without him. Not with his vulnerability on his conscience.</p><p>Walter slowly stirred when Henry shook him and after a really long minute, he opened his eyes and began looking around as if confused. He pushed himself to his elbows dazed and tired, brow furrowed before his gaze rested on Henry, crouched on the floor next to him, blood on his hands and clothes. He probably looked insane. </p><p>“Henry. What are you doing here?” he looked around again, talking like he was feeling floaty and far away, “oh i guess i told you where i work hm...but what happened? I'm on the floor…”</p><p>“Uhm...we’re not..Walter we’re not at your job, not really anyways…” Henry explained gently, Walter regarded him confused, “i-me and Eileen went through that hole and we got separated. I ran here because I saw...some things.”</p><p>“Oh…” Walter was so quiet he barely had spoken, he’d snapped himself from his strange stupor and the realization seemed to hit him, fear and despair in his eyes, he looked scared. Henry sure didn't like that expression on him. “Oh dear..” he stood rather quickly, Henry saw his body lurch  like he felt sick, and seemed to try and analyze his situation. Henry just looked at him standing as well, it occurred to him that Walter must've found more clothes somewhere, how he found such baggy pants he couldn't be sure, but the jeans he wore were old and likely came secondhand. The black shirt was not at all too big for him, once again fighting maybe a bit too snugly, and a large windbreaker that for whatever reason had a basketball on the chest was almost the same shade of blue as the trenchcoat, Henry  wondered if he liked that color, it seemed kind of an odd one to enjoy. He guessed the place didn't have a dress code, or only a loose one as it appeared to be a private small business, he didn't know why he was worried about all of that, not when Walter was anxiously wringing his hands. </p><p>“Ok..ok this is bad, you don't know where Eileen is right?” he frowned, looking even more anxious when Henry nodded, “damn it..uhm sorry. Well, what did you see down there? What did the apartments look like?” </p><p>“I saw some…...creatures, looked like..monkeys that had been run over or melted or something. I dunno, but the apartments were all wrong...kept hearing things, saw a bunch of...dead dogs that walked around, and..and theres these sirens that I keep hearing.” Henry cobbled together a description that didn't make sense but Walter’s expression told him that he knew <em>exactly</em> what Henry was talking about. Henry didn't like that expression. </p><p>“Oh dear...i don't..i don't...this is bad.” Walter murmured, biting his nails and looking around, the wheels whirring in his mind, he closed his eyes taking a deep breath and seemed to set his shoulders. “Alright...well we have to find Eileen, that's, I don't want those things to get to her, ape things right?” he shook his head, “they're very violent..are you ok? There's blood..”</p><p>“Yeah..i...about four of them attacked me but it's fine i got away...i don't have anything else to fight them off though.” He murmured, Walter's expression had changed from worried to calculated, he had at least part of an idea and though Henry had a lot of questions for this strange man he knew now might not have been the time. </p><p>“Well...i'm sure Mr. Albert won't notice a few missing..peices of equipment. I guess this all isn't real...not that he could do much to me either...” Walter murmured, looking around and grabbing an aluminum bat on the ground and weighing it in his hand, “...be better if it was wood...i guess it might splinter...oh, i'm sorry,” he turned, noticing Henry was still there, now apprehensive and almost scared seeming, the timid expression oddly fit him but Henry couldn't help but feel bad looking at it. “I uhm...I think I think I'll take this but, there's plenty of, things around, I'll try and make sure you don't get hurt though.”  </p><p>Henry nodded and glanced around finding a collection of golf clubs along the wall, he grabbed one from the bag, a nine iron he was pretty sure based on what he remembered from that strange couple of months as a ten year old where he obsessively watched golf, he weighed it in his hand trying to remember why he'd been so fixated on it, a brief memory cropped up, <em> “you bastard, you're just go on and leave me here and fuck those whores at your ‘office’ you worthless shit” a loud smack was heard. And a shout. Henry turned the TV up louder. “Don't fucking talk to me like that without me youd be on the fukcing street so be fucking greatful i bother to feed you and that fucking thing you gve birth to.” Another smack and the shattering of glass. Henry turned the TV up louder, tears in his eyes. </em> </p><p>“Henry?” Walter's voice cut through the home movies in his mind, and Henry blinked and looked over at him, he must've had a strange or sour expression on his face as Walter looked somewhat nervous. He shook his head and set the head of the club in one hand, no time for that now, not with Walter here. Though he was getting concerned by these flashbacks. </p><p>“Sorry. Memories.” He shook his head and Walter conceded, any attempts to get to know him better from the last time they'd ventured unwittingly through hell was abandoned, he didn't know what understanding they'd come to, if any, but Henry so dearly wanted it to be defined. He hated uncertainty, but at least was glad Walter seemed to learn there were boundaries he wouldn't be crossing. Not without repercussions. </p><p>“When we find Eileen, we gotta talk...you know something, don't you.” It wasn't a question, the same way he had talked to him the other day. Walter looked unnerved but nodded with some responsibility setting itself on his shoulders. Henry figured the best way to combat this man's strangeness was to emulate it and unfortunately found he was good at it, as it was hardly different than his own. </p><p>“Yeah. I suppose i do.” he sighed, “i know i said before i would tell you whats going on. And i'm sorry that i didn't before. I meant to, really. I never wanted anyone to deal with this either…” he looked so genuine. Henry almost felt bad, but knew better. </p><p>“It's fine. We’ll figure it out. But, don't lie.” he said softly, his hand unintentionally gripping the club in his hand, Walter seemed to notice and just nodded sheepishly. Henry wasn't sure what to think about how the larger man seemed to be scared of him, he didn't think he'd ever seen someone react that way to his presence before and it was unnerving, still if it got him some answers he guessed he couldn't complain too much. He wondered if other people saw him that way, Richard's comments came to mind. </p><p>“Well, i don't-don't know where to begin, i guess we could go by the...the pet store first..or by where i think it might be...and if we can't find her there we could try and see if she made it to the bar…” Walter mused and Henry just let him talk for a moment, he didn't remember where any of these places were normally, not that this area made any sense regardless, he supposed if Walter worked around here he'd have an idea and that was as good a guess as any. </p><p>“Well...lead the way i guess. I just...hope we don't see any more monkeys. Don't like this...petting zoo.” Henry commented and Walter returned it with a slight nod and the ghost of his normal smile, as if he were stifling it, Henry wished he wouldn't somehow, he did look better with that placid little smirk as opposed to any other expression. He pushed that thought hurriedly from his mind but the shadow of its implications laid there waiting to pounce on him later. If of course he ever let it. Maybe he'd die first, that would be preferable. </p><p>Walter turned and began walking towards the door right next to the one Henry had come through, Henry inexplicably feeling better with Walter around, sure he was large and could possibly turn on him but something about his fight with the monster before was reassuring, he didn't seem like he meant him any harm and also appeared actively scared of him. Worst came to worst, Henry likely could outrun him.</p><p>His thoughts were rudely interrupted when Walter opened the door and from behind them, Henry heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. </p><p>“Don't fucking move.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Under The Bridge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Sometimes I feel like my only friend, Is the city I live in, the city of angels, Lonely as I am, together we cry//It's hard to believe that there's nobody out there, It's hard to believe that I'm all alone, At least I have her love, the city, she loves me<br/>Lonely as I am, together we cry//Under the bridge downtown, I gave my life away]</p><p>loud and big, the city breaths and is as ruthless as some of its residents.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>overnights cut into all the raw time i have to work on this, but! here we are! i hope you guys are doing well, thank you again for all the comments really i love how detailed some of you get. oh and happy Hanukah to those that celebrate! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Doing as he was told wasn't necessarily difficult for Henry but he had to admit that it rarely was quite this terrifying. His hands instinctively were raised to about eye level and he didn't dare move or even breathe too loudly. The voice, harsh yet familiar, didn't speak again for a moment in an attempt to seemingly savor the moment. </p><p>“Now, what the hell are you two doing here of all places.” Richard audibly sneered, Henry had unfortunately dropped his weapon, the echo of it clanking against the floor had been drowned out by the adrenaline and heat of terror. “Not quite the place for long haired yuppies eh? Turn the fuck around and look at me. Now.” unsure of what else to do they did as they were told, Richard in all his five foot five or six glory had his revolver pointed at Walter, slowly turning it back towards Henry like a security camera just waiting for unapproved movement to justify going off. </p><p>“Mr. Braintree, “ Walter started, his voice hollow but calm, and polite. “Please, we don't need to fight.” he was still holding his bat in one hand, it rested on his shoulder lightly as his hands were raised like Henry’s. Richard frowned and his lip curled. </p><p>“No we don't. And were not gonna fight, you're gonna tell me what i wanna know and i'm gonna decide whether you're lying, and if you need some lead in that fruity fucking skull of yours, yeah?”</p><p>“I don't think...think this is all necessary.” Walter replied, his expression somewhat distraught, Henry looked at them, and he realized Richard wasn't paying him any attention whatsoever. His eyes were locked on Walter, with something like malice, and something like ecstatic joy. Henry tried to lower his hands but the gun was jerked back to him. </p><p>“Don't. Ill <em>get</em> to you, little freak.” was hissed to him and Henry put his hands back where he had them. Richard kept his eyes on Walter, “but i think you know what's going on. I think you fucking put us here. I'll bet you know why downtown is like this, why i keep seeing shit, why this little prick is here, you do know, and you're gonna tell me everything.”</p><p>“...sir, i really don't know what you're talking about.” Walters voice faltered slightly, the gun seemed to be putting him on edge more and more, Richard kept getting closer to him, nearly right in his face, his tie swinging lightly with every movement, Henry knew the painting this time as Jacob Wrestling With The Angel though now didn't seem to be the time to be thinking about this lunatics eccentric style of dress.</p><p>“What good is lying gonna do huh? I know about you, i didn't like you one fucking bit from the minute i saw you, so i did a little digging, i found some pretty interesting things.” Richard chuckled darkly, his eyes seemed to halfway bulge out of his skull as he walked forward, the barrel of his revolver inching closer to Walter's chest as the taller man backed away into the door behind him. “Does a fire sound familiar? How about a drowning? Or Toluca lake? Or two missing kids? Yeah that's right motherfucker, i <em>know</em> about you.”</p><p>“Sir I can..i can explain all of that i-” Walter stammered, looking more terrified by the second.</p><p>“I don't want you to explain!” Richard snarled, slamming his left fist into the door next to Walter’s head causing him to flinch away, sliding down the surface slightly with his hands in front of his face. “I don't wanna hear a goddamn excuse, you're bad fucking news and i won't tolerate your bullshit anymore. This is all your fault!”</p><p>Richard was yelling and becoming more physically aggressive and Henry wasn't sure what exactly about this compelled his next actions, nevertheless he scooted away from the scene. At this point Richard was practically foaming at the mouth and focused only on the man cowering in front of him, and Henry slipped out of his peripheral vision easily, picking up the golf club from where he'd dropped it, and walking closer to the pair. Inches away from Richard, practically breathing down his neck, the club raised like he was pantomiming chopping wood, sweat on his palms but his breathing steady and hands sure, and only this seemed to stir the aggressor from his tirade. Richard whipped around, the gun now pointed at the floor and nearly spoke before Henry swung the club.</p><p>Metal connected with human skull, and the sound was as sickening as it was fascinating. </p><p>Richard collapsed to the floor, his body resembling a bag of sand tossed haphazardly aside, no grace or elegance to his form with his limbs at twisted angles and neck craned painfully. A huge bruise that had peeled away some skin ballooned up from his forehead rather quickly and though he was clearly breathing, he was out cold.</p><p>“Oh…sh-...oh dear lord... “ Walter blinked, seeming stumped like he didn't believe what he was looking at, his eyes widened and demeanor seemingly had reset to something almost calm if he wasn't incredulous. </p><p>“...i...well he uhm..” Henry cleared his throat and tried not to shake too hard, “...i don't think he's getting up...anytime soon.” </p><p>“...no i..i guess not.” Walter replied quietly. Henry wasn't sure if he'd been joking, he also had no idea how to take Walter's response, as the other man wasn't making a definitive facial expression that Henry could recognize. They both stared at the body for an uncomfortably long time before Walter spoke again.</p><p>“I uhm...i wouldn't want to keep it on me. But i...can't imagine he would...need his gun anymore. Not like this.” he gestured to the weapon which was just lying there off to the side, like he'd fallen asleep while holding it. </p><p>“No. he doesn't need it.” Henry agreed just as passive and pleasant as if they were two coworkers discussing a plan to take care of a mess, very light and casual.</p><p>“And if he...wakes up and has to...defend himself. I think there's enough here in this shop he could use.” Walter gestured behind him without moving his yes from the body. </p><p>“Yeah. he could. We should. Maybe hold onto it. For now.”</p><p>“Right.” there was a pause unbroken for another good minute until Henry decided he would rather be the one to hold onto the gun, reaching over and uncurling the other man's hands from the grip of the weapon as carefully as one would approach a sleeping bear. It felt heavy and oppressive in his hand in a way he could understand but couldn't rationalize. The revolver was shiny and clearly well loved, nicks and scratches from years of wear and tear still remained however, and the grip seemed like it had been worn to a degree into the shape of its owners hands. Not enough to be seen visually, but enough to sort of feel. Henry didn't think he'd ever held a clearly sentimental item and felt such revulsion. He tried to situate it in his pocket and hoped beyond hope they couldn't find a place to hide or get rid of it. </p><p>“I think we should go and try and find the pet shop now. I...i'm sure he’ll be fine.” Walter said after a moment, he was rubbing his wrist as he looked down anxiously as if he was concerned about the conclusion he'd come to, but Henry couldn't find another solution, they could wait here sure, but he didn't feel like facing Richard’s anger once he woke up from this. </p><p>“Yeah, i dunno that we’ll...he’ll be okay.” Henry said as they both moved away from the body, there was hesitation, as if maybe they wanted to put him in a more comfortable position, or at least make his neck look less broken, but they didn't ultimately, instead they turned and walked out of the room, Henry felt a weight off of his shoulders as he left.</p><p>They walked forward, quiet for a moment as they walked through another nothing room that smelled like flesh and blood, Walter seemed especially on edge but Henry couldn't blame him for this, not after his life was threatened again. He couldn't help but pick up on Walter seeming jittery, his hands picking at his skin and running his fingers through strands of his hair, eyes flicking to the corners of the room in agitation. Henry knew he himself was shaking a little, but he hoped Walter didn't notice. He sort of felt bad for Walter, he wanted genuinely to try and help him for whatever reason, but didn't know how, and wasn't going to try.</p><p>He was concerned about what Richard had said, about him ‘reading’ something about Walter. Fires, drowning, missing children, he had no idea what these could mean, Henry also didn't know how Walter could ‘explain’ these things, he was concerned and scared of what it could imply about his companion, but it was hard to be scared of him while he was shaking and nervous. </p><p>“I think the pet shop should be this way.” Walter said softly after a moment, Henry had nodded and this seemed to encourage him, “i don't know if they'll be any animals there...i sort of hope not. But maybe Eileen will be there, she’ll know...know what to do, and she’ll want to hear...what i have to tell you. I'm sorry, before anything, and I'm sorry you're here...really. I know you probably don't want me around, and i wouldn't blame you for that but..i'll try to make it...make some sense for you.” he rambled a little, sounding genuinely heartfelt, and apologetic. Henry didn't know what to make of it at all, unnerved but still feeling kind of bad for him. </p><p>“We can deal with it when we find her.” he nodded slightly trying to sound at least personable and Walter took it, if not well, at least better than he could have. </p><p>“Yeah, we can.” Walter said a moment later, as they walked out of the rooms and onto a metal platform with cold, unfriendly stairs heading downward, the infinite abyss hung down below them. Henry turned and looked at the other man, he seemed tired, weary and nervous as if he was scared of Henry, scared of the area they were in he was scared of just about everything. Henry really wished he could put his finger on how he felt about Walter, he was nice, he was timid, he seemed to care and to not want to hurt anyone, and yet all of this was too deliberate to be coincidental, Richard was insane, but not a liar as far as Henry knew and he couldn't imagine he was wrong about what he'd said, Walter had seemed to recognize it, and Henry was kind of scared to know what he'd meant.</p><p>Their descent was mostly quiet besides the quietly clinking of their shoes against the metal, Henry shifted his golf club in his hand over and over, Walter behind him slowly turning his bat over in his hands, they could hear loud banging and the noises of the monkeys screaming off in the distance and distorted voices, accusing both of them of something, at least that's what they sounded like. He couldn't discern what they were telling him exactly, and they just started laughing at him at some point, an occurrence that made him self conscious despite himself, as he over analyzed how he walked and moved and even his mannerisms. He hated when this happened. </p><p>The door was slightly ajar when they approached it, Henry could hear barking and other animal noises from behind and while Henry had never spent a lot of time in a pet shop, he'd never had a pet that wasn't a worm from the sidewalk or a beetle in the windowsill, but he had still never felt so put off of one. He wasn't a big fan of dogs sure but he wasn't scared of them, maybe nervous around them but usually not scared. Henry pushed the door open slowly as Walter was hesitating, and slightly wrinkled his nose at the smell of animals that likely was forever trapped in the walls of the building now after so many years. </p><p>The raucous noises from inside the little shop was nearly overwhelming, even though for some reason there were no animals that Henry could see. Walter seemed even more uneasy, he was shifting his weight a lot and glancing around as if looking for the unseen animals. </p><p>“No dogs...here...for now.” he murmured, looking around the little shop, but standing close enough to Henry as if nervous of straying away from him. The lights in the room were flickering slightly, and the darkness caused by this was unnerving.</p><p>They explored the little shop slowly and thoroughly, without a flashlight it was difficult as the lights seemed to be flickering more and more, the shelves lined with pet food enough for quite a few animals, toys, and bowls, aquarium gravel and fish bowls, ones that did not look big enough for a real fish. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but there was a semi oppressive atmosphere around them. </p><p>“I don't think Eileen is here…”Henry murmured after a moment, something that startled Walter slightly, but he nodded as he scanned the shop again, empty open cages implying an escaped pet, and Walter stared at it intently for a second as if still trying to find either her or a creature. </p><p>“No, I don't think so either…i hope she's alright..”</p><p>“Me too but...she had a gun on her, so hopefully…” he didn't finish his sentence but Walter nodded anyways in understanding. Whatever they felt about one another, whatever unease, the common goal of Eileen could at the very least inspire them to work together as much as possible. Henry could live with that, even as he knew the both of them about the same amount. He wondered why he had such a bias, or if there was just some innate desire to minimize allowing other people to be in danger, or if he was just scared of being alone himself, but now was not the time. </p><p>Walter scanned the shop again, tentative and unwavering in his gaze even as he was on edge, and though he shouldn't have been, Henry was staring at him, taking in his face, his features the way he moved and tilted his head and held himself while standing. He'd seen it many times by now but he couldn't quite help his staring, this man couldn't be much older than him if at all, the way he dressed showed this plainly, yet he seemed timeless, ageless even, ethereal but in a way that was tired, an old god wishing for respite. Yet, he was still young and Henry felt like he was being a little dramatic as he looked at him, he was just a man, Henry didn't know if he was a harmless or good man, but that was all he was. </p><p>“Oh...a key.” Walter interrupted his thoughts as he reached through the shelf full of seemingly expired cat food. Retracting his hand revealed what was indeed a key, small and silver and hooked on a belt clip, odd only in that it was the only key on said clip. Walter frowned slightly as if confused as he looked at it, his expressions were always subtle and yet distinct. “Strange this is...Mr. Alberts keys...or key I suppose, usually he has more. Guess it only thinks we need the one…” the last part came out much quieter than before, and Henry latched onto it, Walter seemed to lapse into brief moments of saying things out loud he probably shouldn't or didn't want to, and Henry needed to know what he was thinking, he realized he was desperate for this information. </p><p>“Perhaps...we need to go back…” Walter started before he was interrupted.</p><p>The howl that came from around the corner made them jump, whipping around they found several of the dogs, most of them the green moss color from before, and one a strange pink, like raw hamburger, with bigger teeth and slobbering maw. Henry somehow didn't think he'd have quite as much luck dealing with these dogs as opposed to the ones from his childhood, even hitting one with his golf club would likely set off the others, as they backed away from the snarling creatures he tried to think of what to do before he bumped into Walter. Glancing behind frantically at the bigger man, he found him frozen in place, horrified in a most unhelpful manner. Henry realized he would have to take charge, which only dimmed their chances of getting out of here unharmed. Henry tried to think quickly, if they tried to run off likely the dogs would split up and maul them both, thinking under pressure wasn't his strong suit, and in the split second of time between him seeing Walter’s helplessness and coming to a conclusion, he shut his mind off and acted on instinct. Henry shoved Walter backwards as much as he could and grabbed the nearest can of what was probably dog food and hurled it at the dogs, missing but distracting them enough that him turning and sprinting was ignored for a moment, footsteps behind him at least telling him that Walter was close behind. They quickly made their way back to the side of the shop they’d come from, the dogs barked and howled as if enraged and confused by their disappearance but they had no chance to catch up as the men had reached their exit. </p><p>Wrenching the door open the two of them stumbled out of the shop and the combined effort of both of them throwing their weight against the door to close it rattled the weak frame. They both seemed to be out of breath but at least unhurt for now. In their panic they didn't speak, but Henry did notice how Walter’s breath rattled oddly in his chest, as though he were ill or had weak lungs, if only because it was the loudest thing around them at the moment, before the strange symphony of noise picked back up with a swell and fade like it was also breathing along with them.</p><p>“..im, i'm sorry Henry i uhm.” Walter rubbed his forehead when they'd calmed down, he looked exhausted suddenly, and spoke very softly, “i don't know i just...froze...afraid of dogs i guess...a bit stupid i know but..” </p><p>“No, it's...it's fine.” Henry shook his head, talking calmly, “i don't know what...those things are… i guess they're dogs but, “ he pushed off from the door and leaned back a little but hopefully not in a way to offend him, “..i guess they can't open doors right? Least we found that key.” Walter looked over to him and a weak smile graced his features, and Henry felt inexplicably a little better. </p><p>“That's true hm. Well, I think the key leads out the...the front door of the sports shop. I don't know why we would get a key for it but...it must mean something.” Walter nodded, seeming to not notice Henry shifting his weight, he was certain of what he said, that much Henry was sure of, but he didn't understand it at all. </p><p>“...what could it mean? And...why would it mean something?” Henry tried a question as the two of them stumbled away from the door meandering their way back up the stairs, Walter seemed to consider his question for a few seconds before answering.</p><p>“Hm well...well like i said before it's...this is part of a...i suppose mindscape or something. Usually it all correlates to something, it means something important. Or leads to something, i...i can explain more, i promise, but when we find Eileen.” </p><p>“Okay.” Henry decided he would deal with that as an answer for now, and could hold him to it later, “but...does it usually just...make items show up like that?”</p><p>“Sometimes. It likes...puzzles for lack of a better word.” Walter nodded, his breathing seemed a bit off again but not too bad, Henry guessed that full on sprint had really done a number on him. Strange, certainly, he wondered if he was sick, if this ‘mindscape’ as he'd called it was affecting him physically or if this was normal for him. He also wondered exactly what he meant by ‘it’. He supposed he was referring to the world but strangely as if it were sentient, and had preferences, something he couldn't say he liked the implications of. Henry’s thoughts were interrupted when he realized they were at the top of the stairs and in front of the door, and it was then, that he remembered Richard. It seemed Walter remembered also.</p><p>“...do you think he’ll be awake yet?” Walter asked him after a moment, trying to sound amicable and calm, but Henry could inexplicably, sensing the unease in his tone. </p><p>“...we weren't gone that long. And...well we have his gun.” Henry answered, realizing he did in fact have the gun on him, and suddenly their panic induced sprinting out of the pet shop seemed silly and unnecessary, he was a little warmer at his forgetfulness of something so important but Walter evidently either didn't put the pieces together or decided not to mention it to alleviate Henry’s embarrassment. </p><p>“That's true. Here's to hoping…” Walter pushed the door open as they back tracked through the empty room, the both of them holding their breath as Walter opened the door, bat gripped tightly in his fist, hinges begging for an oiling announced their presence to whatever was inside the shop as the door was opened.</p><p>Luckily, it was empty, or perhaps that was a bad thing. Henry already didn't know anymore, not with how his day was going, but regardless the shop was abandoned and quiet. Walter gave the room a good look around but didn't find anything as his shoulders relaxed slightly. Henry was equally as relieved for a moment as well. </p><p>“Well. i suppose he did get up...either that or he was taken somewhere. But he's not here at least.” Walter summarized his findings and hypothesis out loud but likely more for his own benefit as he wasn't looking at Henry when he said it instead glancing up at the ceiling, though with Walter it was hard to tell. </p><p>“I hope he's not somewhere else..” Henry leaned against the shop counter, tapping the club in his hands against his thigh as the thought just occurred to him. “I guess he probably isn't a big threat but...i don't wanna run into him again..”</p><p>“No i don't either but, he couldn't have gone far, in fact he probably went back through the door you came in, he can't open this one, '' Walter pointed out gesturing to the door next to Henry and pulling the key out of its place in his coat pocket. “I...don't think we should worry about him for now.” Henry nodded in agreement as Walter wordlessly approached the locked door and, with some wiggling that showed he was familiar with the locks particular quicks, managed to get it open with the help of the key, the key which he slid back into his pocket, likely out of habit. </p><p>This next area led to more stairs heading downward, but it was nice to know they were putting some distance between them and Richard, and hopefully closing the gap between them and Eileen. Henry found that inexplicably it was getting, somewhat easier to talk to Walter, not easy, but easier. Almost like he was talking to a nicer and more palatable Frank, light situational conversation, nothing more but that was enough, if not for fondness at least for cooperation. However, like Frank, Henry knew to keep some distance, emotionally at least, as he still was hung up on what Richard said earlier, and all the signs and possible hints that Walter was not to be trusted, but rather feared. And yet the old argument of Walter himself kept cropping up in his mind, Henry knew a thing or two about unfounded ostracization from others, but the situation was too terrifying to trust anyone, not in the least someone who admitted to knowing something, though what that was he wouldn't know until they found Eileen, if of course they found her. He tried not to think like that. </p><p>“Henry?” Walter’s voice cut through his thoughts again, the way it always did where it was interrupting but somehow not irritating, he gave him a soft hum of questioning to encourage what he wanted to say and Walter seemed to choose his words carefully as he gently licked his lips.</p><p>“is...Mr. Braintree always like that? I'm sorry i just...i have to wonder..” he trailed off but Henry sort of picked up on his question, the real question centering in on why Walter had been chosen for this purpose of being a punching bag, even if Richard was right in his incoherent ramblings, he had no reason to really suspect anything off about Walter, whatever had set off his alarm bells causing him to delve into the new tenant more deeply wasn't something Henry knew. He tried to think of an answer but truthfully it was more complicated than yes or no.</p><p>“..sort of. He's always been, uhm..strange and angry and he usually just threatens with...his mouth. But i just...think he really doesn't like most..most men, but,,,you specifically he…” henry sort of trailed off but Walter nodded in grave understanding. </p><p>“I can't say i blame him.” was a whispered reply, another of his unruly thoughts slipping through his teeth and out into the open for the whole world of the two of them to hear, though Walter didn't react to it. Henry wondered what he meant by this, as he walked lightly tapping the side of his calf with the club. </p><p>They rounded a particularly curvy corner only to find themselves on a ledge just about as wide as Walter but no more, the concrete of a platform below a very uninviting fall, against the wall was two elevators with one slightly open as if out of order. They slipped by carefully, Walter trying the buttons but to no avail. There was nothing but a dead end ahead of them so Walter decided the only way they were getting was by force. Setting down the bat, he grabbed one side of the elevator door, only barely being able to slip his fingers inside it and pulled, repositioning his legs a few times to get a better stance. Surprisingly the door opened slightly, though only on one side and when Walter went to relax some the other half of the door closed the gap he had made. With a short hum, Walter tried again pulling from the other side, bits of rock sliding down into the dizzying chasm below, only to receive the same results. Hands on his hips Walter examined the door with mild annoyance in his expression, something mildly humorous, and Henry took some pity and figured it was just as much his job to help them move forward as it was Walter’s. Slipping his own fingers into the gap, Walter looked at him and then registered what he was supposed to do, both of them grabbing one side of the door and pulling, Henry sort of surprised to feel it give way albeit slowly. Gaining slight momentum like a heavy shopping cart down a short hill. The gap widened and eventually stopped just wide enough that they could both squeeze through with little issue. Satisfied both men relaxed their stances only to jump back when a loud clunk was heard and the doors slammed shut. </p><p>A light, mocking, <em>Ping!</em> was heard behind Walter, and the other elevator opened. </p><p>The two of them gave each other an exasperated look but picked up their respective weapons and walked inside the now open elevator, it was huge and for some reason on the other end there was an open area, with a ladder leading downward, the two of them attempted to use the elevator as intended but the doors wouldn't close, so it seemed like they should go down the ladder. As strange, twisting, and confusing as this world was he still had the feeling that it was gently guiding them in the direction it wanted them to go, like the polar opposite of the maze. </p><p>Henry crouched next to the entrance, and peered down but saw nothing below him but wet tile, it was dark but not too dark. He glanced over at Walter and shrugged, resting his feet on the ladder and pushing off to climb down, trying to maneuver a bit to hold onto the golf club and descend, thus having to hold onto the side of the ladder rather than the actual bars with his right hand. Stepping aside once he reached the floor so there was room for Walter, he gave the room a good once over. </p><p>The room was dark and moldy, there was a bright light in one corner, and the whole room was wet like it had rained inside, there were several pillars in the center, and a long hallway on the other side of the room. Just ahead of him was another ladder but the bars were all broken and scattered around the floor so he disregarded it. Henry couldn't fathom why this was here next to some elevators of all places, but he didn't guess that this place gave a damn what he thought about the architecture. </p><p>“Well...this is strange hm?” Walter, who seemed to have appeared next to him, said quietly. He began walking around the pillars, evidently not impressed by the room either and Henry followed him until they both stopped looking at the strange sight blocking their path forward.</p><p>Somewhere between ten and fifteen strange creatures or plants perhaps, or something in between he really couldn't be sure, pushed themselves up from the tiled floor. Long stalks with bulbous heads, that looked like human skulls with no features, the texture something like porous rocks. They swayed slightly as if they were alive and trying to dance to unheard music, and Henry stared as if somewhat transfixed by them. Now he didn't know much about plants, but he had the impression this wasn't normal for most flora, unless fungus wasn't considered a plant, he thought that might be the case, not that he cared. Or figured mushrooms knew how to dance either.</p><p>Walter for whatever reason reached forward and touched one of them, only to flinch back in what appeared to be pain, while the strange thing or creature made a loud whooshing noise and retracted into the floor. The blonde man was wincing and shaking his hand as if he'd been burned or stung mildly, so evidently they couldn't just push their way through it. Henry looked at the golf club in his hand and furrowed his brow, sort of putting the pieces together in his mind. Taking the club by the handle and smacking against one of the living fungi, the whoosh and a weird almost distorted sounding voice echoed along the walls as it retreated into the ground. Walter watched him do this again, and then began to smack his bat against the creatures himself. Henry didn't want to be insensitive or not take this seriously or something like that, but he couldn't help but find this situation somewhat humorous. Perhaps it was just how surreal it all was, he was standing here smacking strange mushrooms with a golf club next to his new neighbor also hitting these things with an aluminum bat and neither of them truly knew where they were exactly and he had no idea where they were going. The pure absurdity was like something out of a deranged comedy. </p><p>But when they had cleared the area of all of the fungi he at least found something like respite from the strange feelings he'd been having. There was something like camaraderie with Walter, nothing like smashing mushrooms with a man to feel a little better about a situation. He guessed anyways. On the other end of the hallway there was another ladder leading upwards, Henry figuring that was their next direction and walking forward, set his club over his shoulder. </p><p>Walter reached for the ladder first and Henry noticed two things, one that the hand he'd used to try and pet the mushroom was red and irritated like he was having some allergic reaction to it, and two that there was a cue ball tucked away in the corner of the room. Curious, Henry reached over and picked it up, it was a fairly standard cue ball, nothing particularly strange about it but for whatever reason as he turned it over and over in his hand, he had the premonition that he needed it. He didn't know why, or if there was any reason, but regardless he took the ball and slipped it in his pocket. Turning around he saw Walter giving him a strange sideways glance if amused or interested in whatever he was doing, like a researcher observing a wild animal, and Henry wasn't sure what to say, but flushed a little and just shrugged. Walter’s gaze lingering on him for a second and then he simply began climbing upwards without a word. </p><p>Henry had no idea how to take that and instead didn't, deciding to follow him as a compromise, the ladder was cold and unfeeling and slightly slick under his hands as if someone had just doused it in water for fun, but neither of them slipped and they managed to get up to the top uninjured. Henry pulled himself up onto concrete and looked around as he stood, another dark alley, though this one while not familiar exactly, it did feel less otherworldly than other places. There were storefronts that were boarded up or locked up, and there was plenty of trash out in front of them. The alley bent and twisted at sharp angles as well but not unnaturally, they had come up from under the street area where a large board was off to the side as if pushed there by someone. Behind them was a locked door so as they finished looking around the alley, they began walking forward slowly. </p><p>Walter seemed to be taking all precautions, looking around corners and as if looking around for a threat of some kind, not that he found one, While Henry felt slightly like he wasn't real, dreaming almost while he looked up at signs, one for a small business that sold appliances such as washers or fridges, another that was completely boarded up, a small Japanese restaurant, that Henry remembered seeing before but never going to even though now it was in a different locale, which now was blocked off with police tape. Next to that was an exit to the alley and then there was the front of a store that was completely empty, Henry had no idea what might've been there before but it certainly wasn't there now. He saw elevators beyond a metal fence off to his far left, but Henry figured they'd both prefer to leave the alley. The eerie silence from the area was somehow more unnerving than the strange noises from before, he almost hoped it would return as he followed Walter out of the alley. </p><p>Unfortunately, the emergence from the alley was unfortunately not the respite he hoped for. </p><p>The moment they made their way into an open area, Henry heard the unmistakable sound of an monkey from right behind him, he turned around to see one of the fleshy apes, only to hear another several screeches, behind him and in front of Walter, there were about four of the apes and a fifth approaching with a golf club, another of the black tar covered apes, it's soulless sockets gazing into them with murderous intent as they all tried to surround the two wayward travelers.  </p><p>Well. it certainly seemed they were in something Henry wouldn't hesitate to call, ‘deep shit’.</p><p>Henry readied his club, hands sweaty and shaking, he felt small, heart thumping against his chest, but he was determined, and less overtly terrified by the creatures' appearances, though they certainly wouldn't get his number in a bar no matter how much he'd had. The ape that had appeared behind him rushed forward and with all the strength he could muster, Henry smashed the club against the creature, disorienting it as was now bleeding from it's skull, Henry didn't hesitate to close the gap between them and begin beating it over the head with the club as it screeched and tried to get him to stop by weakly grasping at his weapon, to no avail as Henry in his adrenaline filled rage or panic, was stronger than it. Blood spurted from it's battered skull, as it weakly twitched and died, goo and blood pooling at his feet, though he didn't know what the goop was, he also didn't care to know. </p><p>A loud groan of pain like the wind had been knocked out of his chest was heard from behind of him and before Henry could try and catch his breath he looked behind him just as one of the apes leapt at Walter’s face, another of them had ahold of his aluminum bat, while another was trying to claw at his leg and the fourth and fifth were still approaching him. Walter attempted to rip the creature off of him but he collapsed under the weight of a six foot tall monster with two others dragging him down, the apes very rudely began trying to rip him in pieces now that he was vulnerable. Henry on instinct ran over to the pile of disgusting monsters and Walter, not having a plan, but not really needing one. Henry began beating them off of them as best as he could, the apes had their hands on Walter’s arms and legs attempting to twist and claw at them them; while Walter was thrashing and trying to get them off one of the apes grabbed a fistful of his hair and smacked it's fist against his nose as hard as it could, blood began dripping from his face and he grunted and tried to twist away only for the creature to grab more of his hair. Henry didn't have time to think about it as he elbowed one of the apes in the face and swung his club at the one punching Walter. The ape fell over and Walter took the opportunity and kicked one of the others off of his leg, crawling on his stomach away from the fray. Henry's wild swinging of the club wasn't as good of a strategy as he might've thought however, as the ape with the other golf club dodged his attack and barreled into his chest; caught off guard he collapsed and fell on his back smacking his head against the ground while the ape stood on his ribcage and lifted its club triumphantly, hopping on his chest, as air was forcibly ejected from his lungs. It geared up to slam it's club against Henry’s skull, presumably as penance for his treatment of it's brother, but luckily for him he managed to lift his club over his head as if he were bench pressing this five pound bar just as it swung down. The force of the apes swing made him falter, his elbows bent uncomfortably, but in the worst sword fight ever, Henry at least didn't get his head caved in. always preferable. </p><p>Henry forced his foot between the creatures legs, and kicked as hard as he could, launching the ape back, scrambling to his feet even with how dizzy he was, he approached the creature and as it tried to jump up to its feet, he slammed the club as hard as he could down on the monsters face, and he did it again, and again, and again. Gushing blood all over the concrete, but the ape kept twitching so he kept hitting it. </p><p>The golf club snapped in half down the middle, and Henry for a good half second just stared dumbfounded at it. The ape had passed away just as the end of the club landed on it's caved in head, so at the very least that wasn't the issue, but now out of a weapon he wasn't sure what to do. Walter had gotten to his feet and was somewhat blindly swinging at two apes as if drunk, he must've hit at least one of them as it was twitching on the pavement, but these two were being troublesome. Henry couldn't do much about this as an ape grabbed the club the monster Henry had just killed dropped and attempted to swing it, Henry backed away and sprinted over to the opposite wall trying to think until he remembered the gun in his pocket. Split second decisions and stopping himself in his tracks, he pulled the hefty revolver out of his pocket, he had no idea how to use it, and really didn't want to, but that didn't matter now. Holding the revolver in both hands and reaching it outwards as far away from his actual body as possible, shaking, and pointing the gun at the ape he hoped beyond hope that he could hit it. </p><p>The loud bang and the recoil from the gun jerked Henry back a little, and after a few long slow blinks he realized the ape that had attempted to attack him had collapsed to the ground, and was dead. Henry lowered the gun and looked over just as Walter’s weapon made contact with an ape and crushed it's head against the concrete wall. The other ape stood and grabbed Walter’s wrists and began pushing him against the railing before he had time to recover, as if trying to shove him off into the infinite abyss. </p><p>Henry realized there was no way he could get over there in time, and the gun weighed on his hand. Swallowing and aiming the firearm's long barrel at the ape as it grabbed Walter by the throat and started strangling him, he realized he was shaking, and could only hope he was lucky.</p><p>Bang. Recoil. Henry opened his eyes. The ape was still strangling Walter and for a moment his heart seemed to stop as he thought he might've hit him. Until the other man swung his fist at the fleshy beast, though this didn't do much to deter it as it tried to bend the man's body over the railing. He had one more chance. </p><p>Aim. control breathing, steady your hand, focus, don't think. Aim.</p><p>Bang. Recoil. Open your eyes.</p><p>The ape screeched and collapsed writhing on the ground in agony as it thrashed, choked on blood, Henry couldn't see where he had hit it but it was clearly somewhere debilitating. Walter slid down to the ground against the short railing and sat there, and Henry scooped up the club the ape he'd shot before had dropped, slipping the gun back in his pocket as he got into some sort of stance or position over the creature still writhing. He hated to do this, but he didn't think he had a choice. He didn't want it to get up again. </p><p>With as much power as his now exhausted body could muster he brought the club down on the creature's skull. The meaty squelch and loud snap reverberated around this small parking lot like area and though that ambiance had returned and droned on, Henry couldn't help but feel it echo in his bones. This club had broken also, and Henry looked over the handle of the club dully. If he'd known how fragile these things were he would have felt much more vulnerable earlier on. He tossed it to the side and turned to take inventory of how his companion was doing. </p><p>Walter’s face was so bloodied it looked like he'd been in a bar fight or a car crash, his nose didn't appear to be broken at least just very bruised and he had a deep cut on his lip. His hair also had blood in it and was tangled and bunched up like he'd just awoken, he seemed groggy. His hand still had that rash-like mark on it, and there was blood and chunks of flesh on them and under his fingernails, he coughed a little looking up at Henry blinking slowly while he seemed to be trying to process his surroundings. Breathing slow and strained.</p><p>“Are you ok?” Henry asked eventually through his own exhaustion, though that might've been a stupid question he didn't know what else to say, the back of his head throbbed. Walter took a moment to reply. </p><p>“I..i think so.” His voice was raspy and Henry then noticed dark bruises on his throat when he moved some hair out of his face. “Th-thank you… i don't, don't know what would've happened if I fell…”</p><p>“Don't worry about it.” Henry just shook his head which sent more throbbing pain to his skull, he grabbed his head and took a deep breath as he felt very nauseous for a split second. </p><p>“How...how are you doing?”</p><p>“Headache. Most of the blood is...isn't..” Henry stammered a little and managed to open his eyes looking down at the other man who just gently nodded, and then seemed to realize he was bleeding, now wiping some of it off with his already soiled jacket. </p><p>“Good...good...i can...i can get up in a minute...if you'd wait for me please.” Walter’s voice was quiet as he tried to move himself into a more comfortable position. </p><p>“..no no i..think maybe we should just...sit for a minute.” Henry said softly, he felt numb and wasn't prepared to deal with anything else for awhile, the corpses littering the area weren't preferable but Walter was in no condition to be moved for a good moment, at least until he stopped bleeding so much, Henry was almost starting to worry, sure that thing had hit him hard but there was a lot of blood.</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yeah...you're bleeding a lot, and my...my head hurts.” he said as he walked over and sat close to him, sighing deeply and trying to ignore the stench of the area. “We can..can find Eileen soon but...not right after...that.”</p><p>“Okay...thank you.” Walter barely spoke above a whisper, and when Henry looked at his face, still smeared with blood and disoriented, their eyes met and they stared at one another for a good thirty seconds as if they were trying to communicate something to each other, something neither of them could understand, something neither of them could say with words. </p><p>They tore their eyes away, staring up at the sky that was as black as the void below them without a star in sight, the lonely drone of the strange world was made all the sadder with the absence of the moon in what might've been the sky, but could very easily have been another void. There they sat in this strange hellish world, untethered from reality. Henry closed his eyes and listened only to the low droning, and the unsettling breaths escaping the man next to him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Piano Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[There's an old man sittin' next to me, Makin' love to his tonic and gin//He says: "Son can you play me a memory?", I'm not really sure how it goes//But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete, When I wore a younger man's clothes]</p><p>Not all questions have immediate answers, and not all puzzles have clues, understanding comes only in due time</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope everyone had as good a holiday as they could! I've been working my ass off to get this out before the end of the year and I'm really glad i managed it. thank you for all the support and I hope to see y'all still here in 2021, hoping its a better year for all of us. stay safe and thank you again for all the comments I know I say it a lot but I love them so much &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry had a concussion about once before, he was sure of it, but as he had been no older than twelve or so and thus couldn't remember much but a very confusing stay in the school nurse's office, were he was allowed to drink water and lay down but everytime he had almost started to fall asleep the old nurse with her permanently disinterested expression, glasses attached to a chain and mousy hair that was likely the texture of dirty wool, would smack her clipboard on the desk startling him and politely but bluntly tell him to stay awake. </p><p>He remembered it had something to do with running the mile for school, he had been relatively alright at that being skinny and having learned early on how to not only run from his internal problems, but from the physical threats as well. His strategy in gym class was always to do whatever activity there was as fast as he could and then to sit down if at all possible, which also included getting out in every sport as soon as he could.  He'd been sprinting down the path and the next thing he remembered were two girls in front of him and then suddenly lying down on the concrete path, head throbbing. He assumed they mustve pushed him or something, he also remembered them screaming and him realizing he was bleeding, but he didn't remember how he felt about it at the time, possibly just confused. </p><p>That's about how he felt now, but he was just cognitive enough to recognize his surroundings, and enough to think that he likely had a concussion, but if he did then it probably wasn't a big deal and likely he could sort of walk it off. A light concussion, maybe, nothing too awful. </p><p>He was vaguely stirred from his off railes train of thought when Walter began to shift his weight around and attempt to stand, grabbing at the frankly far too loose for comfort railing in the effort to use it to support his body. Henry, seeing that this could very quickly go poorly, stood up, perhaps a bit too fast if the white flashes in his vision were any indication, and stumbled over grabbing Walter's arm and having him lean on him instead. </p><p>"Sorry...sorry thought that would go better.." Walter mumbled, he seemed a little embarrassed but Henry didn't have any reason to believe it was his fault.</p><p>"Careful…" was all he said as Walter gained his balance again, and stepped forward as if testing his balance. “It's alright. Don't worry about it, you ok?” he didn't know why he was nearly doting on him in a sense, but it came out as naturally as anything else he ever said. Which was to say not at all but not differently so.  </p><p>“I'm Alright well, I'm...we should still go to the bar, I think anyway.” Walter said after a moment of standing there and trying his best to be coherent, he took a deep breath and turned to Henry, “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yeah, i'm pretty sure. There's only one door over there so, hopefully it's through it.” Henry nodded and tried not to wince as his head hurt when he did, the whole place still smelled awful and he was sure it wasn't helping.</p><p>Their agreement sealed, the two of them stumbled away from the handful of corpses littering the concrete, their blood had dried in the time they'd both been sitting on the ground and it was a little disconcerting to see their bodies twisted and contorted in pain as they died, monsters they might be sure, but bodies were bodies. It took a good minute to make their way over there but by the time they had neither of them were really limping anymore as their bodies had gotten used to the pain. The door gave way without issue and they were led into a strange echoing room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of what seemed to be glass, with strange patterns, black edges and X’s with light seeping in from somewhere outside the glass, the sections that weren't black were a dingy yellow and he couldn't see anything outside the odd windows or mirrors, casting the whole room in a strange dull light. A metal staircase headed upstairs, and there was nothing else of interest in the room besides a wheelchair set on it's side ominously in the center of it, the two of them gave it a weary glance but both decided it wasn't worth walking over there to look at it. Henry had never regarded something so neutral to him and helpful to some, to be so ominous. </p><p>They turned to the staircase and began walking up, hand gripping the cold railing, Henry realized he really didn't like how this room felt, cold and strange, he was glad to see a door at the top of the stairs, Walter seemed alright as he dragged himself a little behind, Henry wondered how the two of them were so calm, and why the quiet between them wasn't really awkward, maybe it was the injuries or just the worry and terror. Maybe just that they were both holding off on whatever explanation Walter was going to offer him, and thus didn't figure that there was any reason to worry too much about it. Either way, there was some comfort in the companionship.  </p><p>The door they entered led somewhere outside, and Henry looked around. There was another flight of stairs in a closed off back alley, garbage everywhere and two doors that he could see along the brick wall. He waited for Walter to catch up a little as he gazed around though it looked like it was a dead end, but he couldn't help but figure that there wasn't anywhere else to go. </p><p>“Hm what do you think?” Henry looked over at Walter who grabbed the handrail and sat there for a moment looking around, seemingly thinking, his now tangled wavy hair slipping past his shoulder brushing against the handrail. </p><p>“The bar should be one of the doors down there, i'm pretty sure anyways.” he said quietly, managing to draw himself up to his full height with a deep breath after a moment. “It's all jumbled still, twisted strangely but, this feels familiar, in a way I can't explain.”</p><p>“Have you been to that bar before?” Henry asked him and Walter, answered him with a confused expression as if not sure.</p><p>“No. i don't think so.” he shook his head with a shrug and began to walk downstairs. Henry, confused, but willing to accept anything at all at this point simply followed him.  </p><p>They made their way down the stairs, there was a lot of garbage everywhere, a tattered couch he assumed might have bedbugs or at least provided a soft home for cockroaches and rats, broken pallets and garbage cans that had never been taken out and smelled awful, there was a flattened squirrel off to the side of the staircase that seemed to have been run over at some point even though there was no way a car could get through there. There were two doors right next to each other in the brick wall and Henry noticed a lot of graffiti around, not as overtly gross as the ones he remembered in that tunnel near his old neighborhood, most of it nonsensical or generic but the best one was by far a dog with headphones scribbled on the wall, it was very crude but cute nonetheless. </p><p>Walter tried the door on their left, but the door handle fell apart in his hands with the exact timing of physical comedy on a low budget Television show. The two of them stared at it for a moment before Walter, inexplicably, put it in his pocket. He grabbed the next door and it gave way, creaking ominously as though it were going to fall off the hinges. Henry wondered if this would be the next thing to fall apart.  </p><p>But they were not so lucky, The door opened cleanly to a small almost homely bar, the floor was cracked wood with brick walls and fun little neon decorations indicating what kind of building they were in. Not that the bottles on the wall weren't indication enough. It really wasn't a big bar at all, there weren't any tables with chairs, only barstools at the counter and a pool table on the other side of the room. There was a table near the counter but it was split and wobbling when Henry touched it. There was a broken vending machine next to it and a closed up hole in the wall, the symbols around the hole were scraped off and faded with what appeared to be age though he was sure this was a new installment the bar owner had not approved of. Next to that, was a closed door with a keypad on the side.</p><p>“Well, the bar. Though personally i...can't say I want a drink myself, i wouldn't recommend it either.” Walter gestered outwards at the area as Henry began wandering around. They both did a once over of the building but it was only one room and thus this took about a minute give or take before they reconvened. </p><p>“I guess EIleen isn't here.” he said, though this couldn't have been more obvious, he was tired of looking for someone who wasn't there, and with as long as he'd been in this dreamscape it was extremely concerning that they hadn't seen head nor hair of Eileen. He didn't want to think the worst had happened, but he wasn't sure what else to think.</p><p>“No she doesn't appear to be...this doesn't make sense.” Walter muttered, lines in his face creasing in confusion and concern, he appeared to be thinking the same thing as Henry and the both of them were blatantly unwilling to accept this. </p><p>“Maybe she managed to get through this door…” Henry said approaching the exit with the keypad on the side, jiggling the handle a little though it predictably didn't do anything.</p><p>“Perhaps. But i'm not sure how we can ourselves.” Walter mused, taking a seat at the bar looking alot like a sad patron, Henry wondered if he ever drank, he wasn't sure if he could tell something like that from just looking at him though, somehow he didn't seem the type. He turned to look back at the door, though it didn't change obviously. He stared at it and then back at Walter and tried to figure out what he was thinking. He was clearly thinking hard but about what Henry didn't know, Walter pushed his hair back out of his face and picked at long fingernails absently in his hunched over posture. It was always something to watch people when they weren't performing for anyone else, under the impression they weren't being observed. Walter appeared to be mumbling something under his breath but instead of being put off it was almost, endearing. He couldn't stand to keep looking over at him and wandered over to the blocked off hole in the wall, gently touching the side of it, finding that even in their faded, weathered look, he found the symbols tried to speak to him in some way.</p><p>It wanted him to move forward, it wanted to show him something but it was like a fizzled radio signal where the words could be heard but were likely distorted and misunderstood. A familiar song now a stranger in his ears. He closed his eyes, maybe to hear it better, maybe to try and decipher the message. He was weary of the sigil on the wall, of it's repetition along such chaos, the consistency of it was concerning but he had to wonder if it could be used, be manipulated aside from its intended purpose. He wondered if the warning was a trap or if it was choosing him to whisper the secrets of this place, helping him along, but why him? He knew nothing of this world or why it was here or what it was doing, he didn't know why he was being shown these things, or why of all people, Walter was the most consistent second player in this, or perhaps he was the source, the conduit, but even then why would Henry be the person tethered to him? He'd met the man once before things had broken apart, much as he'd met many people once and then never again, so why would the two of them have any connection, anything at all in common. Unless this world, this filled in hole, the sigils on the wall, knew them both intimately, and decided that the two of them were one in the same, a double sided coin filthed and unrecognizable by anything but something supernatural and likely malicious. That was all too far fetched though, and really what were the similarities between the two? Nothing really superficial, and aside from a loneliness Walter seemed to have overcome, perhaps nothing all that deep either. </p><p>“Henry…” a soft tone interrupted the train of thought he was having, “there's this...” Henry turned to look at Walter looking down, There evidently had been a note on the bar counter and Walter handed it to him seeming a bit confused, as if the words on the page were all but another language. </p><p>
  <em>jeez. You tell the guy that makin the passcode for the door the last digits of the phone number on the billboard outside might not be the best idea and he gets all offended and writes a whole friggin riddle about it. I can't make heads or tales over what he wrote an the only thing he'd give me as a “hint” was tellin me to find the damn cue ball. Ain't my fault that weird old guy took it with him. Anyways i managed to see him type it in once so here it is but don't tell him i told ya, and don't lose this note ok? Oh and i can take over your shift on thursday if you pick one up for me in a couple of weeks. Thanks man. </em>
</p><p>Below this was what was likely the code but infuriatingly it was scratched out with sharpie and Henry couldn't read it if he wanted to. A clue taunting him in its vagueness and in its complete lack of coherence.</p><p>“Well...that's helpful…” Henry stated, flipping it over and while there was still nothing there he kept looking as if he hoped it would manifest an answer for him. </p><p>“It said something in there about a cue ball...but i don't really know what…” Walter trailed off, he'd been thinking hard about it as Henry read, almost as if he were hearing it read aloud though Henry had stayed completely silent. Henry set the paper on the counter and then remembered the ball in his pocket and pulled it out, looking it over. It was a cue ball, and he had to wonder if everything in this world was placed here on purpose, he got that feeling, like nothing was insignificant. He looked at the ball and then over at the pool table and almost mechanically walked over to examine it closer. </p><p>There was nothing but one of those triangles that held all the balls, he didn't know what it was called, he'd never played pool before, and one of the poles off to the side but nothing else of any interest. No other balls and most importantly no other clues. Henry set the cue ball inside the triangle, whatever that would accomplish he wasn't sure but he guessed that one person wouldn't get in trouble for not finding it, though he had to wonder why the bar owner couldn't just get more balls. He turned his back to the table trying to think of what else to do before he heard a loud clatter from the table.</p><p>Turning back around he found a crumpled piece of paper on the pool table, all the balls had reappeared too, and he felt strange looking at it. The cue ball had mysteriously vanished. He reached over and picked up the paper looking over what could've been a poem, if it wasn't so bad and had no rhyme scheme to it. </p><p>
  <em>Dates and memories, times and places<br/>Connect the dots, follow the numbers<br/>Four digits, four bitter lives, strung together by HIS prophet</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first, eyes and pelt, shoulders burdened by sin<br/>Bitter as an olive, the eyes in the forest beg to drag his kin back to hell</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The second, tears shed into the lake, suffering choked into the innocent<br/>Their crying voices silenced under the memories, abandoned in the water</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The third, the skin she wears in dark midnight, the richness of royalty attracts pain<br/>The coldness of the morning sky, awakening to shine on the bruises along her now lifeless throat</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The last, the soul of man beaten, the tunnel with no light at the end<br/>The sinking of one into the abyss, the final flickering of hope being thrown into darkness</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Play a game, drink the ale, summer's graces end in tragedy<br/>Align your memories, decipher the labyrinth and pray your contrition and the truth grants you mercy from HIS wrath</em>
</p><p>None of this made even one lick of sense to Henry, who read and reread it several times in an attempt to find some cohesiveness to it, but he guessed this was the best he was going to get in terms of a clue. He felt a solid camaraderie with the poor bar employee forced to solve some riddle to use the damn door, real or not, he felt the exasperation in the note regardless. </p><p>"...strange." The voice far too close to his ear made him jump, he hadn't realized Walter had moved and was now hovering over him, an off putting sight to Henry who rarely found anyone quite big enough to cast a shadow over him in quite the same way.</p><p>"Sorry..sorry." Walter had noticed his reaction and stepped back but Henry just shook his head.</p><p>"Can, does this make sense to you?" He asked him, offering the paper which Walter took lightly, sure he'd already read it but perhaps he could peruse more detail or meaning from it upon a second or third reading. </p><p>"...hm Well no it doesn't. But, i think we have to force it to make sense. This place...like I said it likes puzzles, and they tend to be more like this than anything else." He explained as he read and reread the page. </p><p>"I don't like brain teasers much. I always get the wrong answer." Henry grimaced and Walter looked up at him with an expression as though he found this comical.</p><p>"Well...there's nothing else we can do really. Unfortunately i genuinely don't know what any of this means. I've read more vague poems but...” </p><p>Henry thought it over, slowly pacing back and forth along the side of the pool table, trying to think. There had to be something there, some connection between the lines scrawled on the page in the most boringly legible handwriting and the old bar game. The balls had to have something to do with it, but there were no numbers in the poem, there were times and plenty of descriptors, but nothing in the way of numbers, hell it didn't even mention being a code at all, or a door for that matter. He wondered if this dream world would give them false hope by sending them clues that answered no riddles, or riddles that had no clues. </p><p>Even the descriptors themselves spoke of different people loosely connected by something Henry didn't know. A prophet, it said, but he was sure he hadn't met any holy men as of late. Someone being called to the woods, children drowning, the body of a woman, and a man dead inside. It was nonsensical almost and yet…</p><p>He looked over at the paper again, this time him being too close to Walter but as he glanced between the poem, the words, and the billiards table in front of him, a vague but not insignificant idea formed. </p><p>“The colors...I think the..the colors has something to do with it…” Henry murmured eventually, Walter tilting his head in that way only he did.</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“I think..the poem is talking about certain...some colors, and that’ll be the answer, or be close?” Henry had no way of explaining his thought process to the other man, Walter seemed to pause and think about it, as if considering or trying to decipher what he meant.</p><p>“Colors...colors, well…that's something, lets see...” Walter looked over it, clearly thinking into it deeply. “I don't know what ‘eyes and pelt’ refers to or whatever ‘sin’ it's talking about. But it talks about the woods, and..an olive?” </p><p>“..hm. Maybe...maybe...the woods are, trees are green.” Henry reasoned stupidly but continued,“and i guess..olives can be green…”</p><p>“Perhaps. But what would, i mean why colors?” Henry paused at this question trying to remember his thought process, as to why he assumed the poem was alluding to colors, he looked around the room as he did so almost asking it for an answer, until his gaze rested on the pool table again, having an epiphany.</p><p>“The balls, they're all different colors.” he explained and Walter just sort of stared at him.</p><p>“Yes. they are.” Henry wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, his tone felt more like he was trying to help lead him, thus Henry kept talking. </p><p>“And they all have numbers on them, one through...uhm fifteen, and zero too. And there's, the code would be four numbers right?”</p><p>“...yes, there's four lines talking about..well something but,” Walter lit up a little in recognition as if he was understanding what Henry was getting at, thank god as he wasn't sure what else he could say to explain it better. How Walter understood him, he wasn't sure, regardless they had an idea. </p><p>"But...wait some of them have the same colors…the striped ones." Henry realized, suddenly feeling kind of stupid, and slightly defeated. Walter frowned and reached over to pick up one of the striped balls looking it over. He then set it down and picked up another one, and then another until he'd examined every striped ball, his face returning to his usual neutral smile, confusing Henry until he turned and began to explain.</p><p>"Well, all the striped balls are double digit numbers, except the nine ball, but I guess if we're wrong  with that one we could just...try the other number. So that narrows down the options right?” </p><p>“Yeah..yeah and..i think that first one is green.” Henry nodded as Walter reached over and grabbed the green ball, setting it off to the side, presumably to visualize their options better, as he rolled the striped balls, minus the nine ball, into the pockets. Henry looked at their remaining options and picked up the note again, if he had been thinking of anything but the puzzle he likely could have recognized the smooth, hell almost seamless way they cooperated with one another. It would've been disconcerting normally, but for now he was too busy trying to decode what he was reading. </p><p>“Tears in a lake...i don't think memories or suffering have a color… but..” Henry murmured, suddenly noticing Walter stiffening as if fearful or uncomfortable. “I think blue is next.” Walter didn't respond, and simply set the blue ball next to the green one. </p><p>“I don't really...understand this one as much.” he started and Walter seemed to snap out of whatever anxiety had come over him in those brief moments.</p><p>“Midnight right? That would..maybe suggest black, but royalty...royalty...that rings some bell i think...what was the other line?” Walter asked and Henry relayed it outloud, “..bruises. Royalty, midnight, sunrise, bruises...midnight is usually blue but..sunrise... Perhaps purple?” he asked, hand hovering over said ball but waiting as if asking for permission. </p><p>“Yeah..that sounds right.” Walter’s hand wrapped around the ball and slid it over like an unrigged claw machine. Three of the numbers hopefully figured out, and he felt like they were making significant progress, something finally looking up.</p><p>“Okay, the last one. ‘the soul of man beaten, the tunnel with no light at the end<br/>The sinking of one into the abyss, the final flickering of hope being thrown into darkness’ i..hm..” Henry stared at this line for a solid minute contemplating it. He got a strange feeling from reading it, like he was being stared at through a microscope and he felt very weird, uncomfortable. He shook his head after a moment, bewildered by what had just come over him. He reread the note, but somehow, he already knew the answer.</p><p>“I think it's black.” he said aloud and Walter looked at him but didn't say anything to argue or even question him. Lining the eight ball up with the others and then turning around.</p><p>“Lets see if this works.” he strode over to the door and began to go and type in the code but paused as if he'd forgotten in the few seconds between the revelation and making his way across the floor. Henry decided to spare him having to ask.</p><p>“Six, two, four, eight.” Henry said, turning to look at Walter as he typed the code into the door, waiting with baited breath. </p><p>And much to his surprise and somewhat delight, the keypad beeped joyfully and the door unlocked. Walter smiled and Henry couldn't seem to figure out why this made him feel better, maybe it was that his smile lit up his eyes in a very strange but natural sense.</p><p>“Oh lovely. I guess you were right, very clever.” he said almost flippantly despite how almost stilted it sounded, like it had come out without a second thought, but he wasn't used to saying such things. Henry just nodded slightly and stood next to him before they walked through the door.</p><p>Whatever god did or did not exist, they were at the least getting a little lucky.</p><p>The figure in front of them blinking in surprise for a good several seconds was too short and pretty to be any sort of monster, no they'd been greeted by none other than the lost woman theyd been looking for all day. </p><p>“Walter, Henry, oh thank god.” Whatever she had said to Henry about him earlier, Eileen didn't appear to be at all worried by Walter as much as worried for him, as she very chastely but genuinely looped her arms around his back for a hug. A hug that he seemed confused, startled even to receive. </p><p>“Eileen...are you alright?” Walter managed to find his voice when she pulled away, Henry noticed a slightly busted lip and some scrapes on her hands, hair messy and part of her sweater ripped but otherwise unharmed. He also realized that the two of them, or at least Walter, looked like theyd been hit by a car. </p><p>“Yeah I'm fine mostly, Jesus there's blood all over you..” she shook her head and turned to Henry, gently setting a hand on his shoulder, him both surprised and somehow disappointed. “Are you guys alright? You look like hell.”</p><p>“We got in some fights.” Henry said softly sort of shifting a little, he really wished whatever magic she had that made him weird and constrained would quit it so he could talk, then again it seemed to work on Walter as well, as he had sort of retracted behind Henry a little, trying to hide behind him as if he were shy, despite them arguably being better friends. And of course Walter being too big to hide anywhere. </p><p>“Yeah i see that, what happened after, well whatever you did Henry?” she frowned and he attempted to find a way to explain it in as few words as he could while making sense.</p><p>“I woke up somewhere else, wandered around alot, I found Walter in the sports shop and we tried to find you, but..mostly we found monsters…” well it was a short explanation, he figured if they had to for any reason they could go over the finer details later. </p><p>“What happened to you?” Walter’s soft voice floated around from behind him.</p><p>“Shit. i woke up in some clock shop or something like that. I don't remember how I got there and I didn't want to be alone but i couldn't find anyone. I found those dogs we saw at the apartments in a pet shop, and weird bugs too, maybe they were birds, I dunno.” she shook her head as if trying to clear it from whatever she’d seen, “i ended up here after wandering around. Jesus, I'm glad to find you two.” </p><p>They nodded and there was some quiet as Henry looked around the room, they were in the middle of two long staircases one leading up several floors and one leading down. There was a small square in the ceiling showing the thick inky black sky. Eileen walked over to the edge of the railing and looked down pausing for a second and then turning back to the other men. </p><p>“I came from the top up there and couldn't see anything important. So...i guess now's as good a time as any to see what's below us yeah?” </p><p>“We've been all over this way and not found anything so i think that's probably the best idea.” Walter agreed and Henry nodded. She turned at their confirmation and they all began the long descent down to the bottom floor. It was quiet, just their footsteps against the dangerously thin metal and rustling of clothing. Henry was more than relieved to see Eileen was ok, and even found some comfort in her not seeming angry at Walter or himself. Still he wondered if now was the time to bring up Eileen's comment about him knowing what was going on, and Walter confirming that he didn't in fact know something he hadn't said before. However, he wasn't left to stew in this for long, as Eileen sighed and began to talk.</p><p>“So....Walter, You know something about this right?” she stated, Henry was between the two of them as they walked down the stairs, so he couldn't see their expressions at all, he wondered if that was intentional on Eileen’s part. </p><p>“Yes...i know some things...but i don't know everything, and i don't know how much you're going to believe me about some of this.” he said, his voice quiet but still relatively stable in his tone. </p><p>“Well, i think you sort of, well maybe i guess you don't owe us an explanation, but it would be nice. Whatever you think might be relevant y'know?” </p><p>“You're right.'' A long deep sigh, “Well i..i guess what i can say is that this place...is sort of a dream like world. I..hesitate to call it the Otherworld or the Fog-world, but i suppose it's similar in nature, it..collects things from people's minds and forces it into some semblance of reality. Nothing we're seeing is exactly real, all of this is some sort of decoration to make us believe it is or has another purpose. Obviously this place isn't entirely fake but, it's also not entirely real either.”</p><p>“...how do you know all of this? And how is it real and fake at the same time?” she asked, sounding baffled, lost even. Henry caught between both of them didn't really get it either. Whatever an 'Otherworld' or 'Fog-World' was he didn't know and the question was left to the wayside. </p><p>“It's like a dream really. It doesn't make much sense, but it's as real as we let it be by walking around in it and engaging with it, and because it put us here, we don't have much of a choice.” Walter explained, there was a pause and what sounded like him swallowing thickly, “as for how i know...i was adopted by an orphanage as a baby, and that orphanage was run by..by a small group of people dedicated to this, these Otherworlds and how they function and why they exist. They originate in Silent Hill, and that's why I grew up there. I only know what they taught me, and I don't know how..much of it is completely true.” </p><p>“Silent Hill...why Silent Hill?”</p><p>“Hard to say...it's just where these..sorts of things began, but there's no telling why. There's plenty of theories from the residents there, but nothing...entirely concrete.” Henry wasn't sure why, but something about that statement didn't feel correct, like Walter was omitting something or perhaps even outright lying. Still, this was just some strange hunch, and Henry decided to ignore it for now, he didn't trust exactly what Walter said, he didn't trust  Walter really at all, but in that same vein he didn't trust Eileen either. He knew better.</p><p>"So...if this is a dream world of sorts...how did we get here? And..is there a way to get out?" </p><p>"I'm...im not sure really why we came, or were brought here. I...often it doesn't make a lot of sense at the beginning. There...is a reason, i just don't know what that is right now." That sounded truthful at the very least, Henry already knew he was awful at lying, "there, this time these...holes in the walls we keep going through to get here, and keep waking up in strange places right?"</p><p>"Yeah, well...there was... it just sort of shifted at one point. But the other time Henry said there was a hole in the wall, i didn't see it myself...and I haven't woken up there, or anything like that but…" </p><p>"Right. We've woken up in this dream world before, the transition like that is..strange, considering but. Regardless there...there has to be a way to leave. We've left these sorts of worlds before, so i imagine as long as we keep pressing forward...we should be able to get out of here. Maybe get home and...there might be a way for us to find some information to stop this from happening again, i'd have to do..some research but i want to stop this for you two if i can." </p><p>"Christ." She muttered, as they finally reached the last floor, "I guess we could...run ourselves in circles trying to figure it out, but...we need to leave before things get worse…" </p><p>"...i have to agree."</p><p> The quiet returned as they looked around and Henry, though he had a million more questions and frankly didn't know that Walter had answered anything fully, didn't figure it was the best idea to stand here and extract every detail from him. Much as he really wished they did have the time. If it was alright for Eileen he guessed it could suffice for now. The room looked like it was under construction, tarps and dusty floor and large steel beams lying on the floor, paint cans and tools, by the looks of it the place had been abandoned for some time, though based on what Walter said it likely was a lie placed there to trick them in some sense. </p><p> There was a door just in front of them on one wall of the room as the only thing out of place and Henry approached it cautiously, noting the symbol painted on it. That same circle and symbol he'd kept seeing, he made a mental note to ask Walter about it, likely he'd know something and the symbol kept cropping up everywhere. It and the uneasy feelings it gave him, and the ominous whispers it was gracing his subconscious with had to mean something. He got the feeling Walter was leaving something out in regards to the people that raised him, he wondered why he decided or felt like they were connected, he just had the hunch, and so far his hunches hadn't been incorrect necessarily.</p><p>"This door, has that symbol on It…" Henry gently touched it as if trying to feel the peeling paint, and decipher some meaning with his still bloodied fingers. </p><p>"I guess that's where we're meant to go." Eileen said grimly, Walter just nodded from behind her looking solemn. Henry sighed and took the handle, the door twisted under his sweaty palms and he hoped to god they weren't going to be facing something awful in this next room. </p><p>His hopes had been dashed before.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Prison Grove</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[An icy wind burns and scars, Rushes in like a fallen star, Through the narrow space between these bars//Dug in, hunkered down, Hours race without a sound, Gon' carry me to where I'm bound//Iron will hard as rock<br/>Hold my up for the fateful knock, When they walk me down in a mortal lock, Out on Prison Grove//Shine on, All these broken lives, Shine on]</p><p>Back in time, yet still you're right here</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alrighty folks chapter 12! [fanfare] thank you all for the support and comments they make my day, im gad to be starting the new year off with a fairly exciting chapter! i hope you all like it &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry had never seen holes quite so foreboding before.</p><p> Well, one hole he guessed, a dirt hole in a massive room, it slanted inwards like it was inviting them to slip into the endless abyss below. He couldn't see anything in the blackness and wondered if it led to the same place outside, off the edges of the world. The walls of this room were layered in tarps like they were covering a painting or mural, the edges around the hole were all completely uniform and identical but extremely narrow, where they had to stand in a line side by side to view it. The room was well lit, a huge chandelier hung from the ceiling right above the abyss, the abyss that light didn't reach. Just ahead there was a door and two huge black metal frames, suspended by hooks in the ceiling. They were just frames, not unlike the bed frames of a poor man, with nothing in them, but Henry could hear this strange droning, different from the one in the subways, older, less loney, more sinister. </p><p>“I suppose we should go that way.” Walter said in a soft, almost reverent tone, as if he almost recognized this, in some sense. Henry felt something sacred here himself, holy even, and didn't want to even speak too loudly, if at all. Eileen looked around frowning, her expression like she was hearing something, something neither Henry or Walter could hear as besides the droning there was nothing. He wasn't sure if he should say anything to her or at all considering the room's presence. </p><p>Nobody said anything more, however, Walter led the way along the narrow path, each of them falling in line behind him. Henry heard vague whispering coming from the pit below him, it was trying to tell him something as he passed by, begging him to listen, and so with such pleading, he softly closed his eyes to listen.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Receiver, please head us...<br/>The truth is close...please save them...HE knows of these sins...he wants to cleanse them</em>
</p><p>“Henry,” he felt a hand on his arm and opened his eyes realizing he was stumbling a little and had nearly fallen into the hole. Bottomless and intimate and just one misstep he'd almost taken, would subject him to a very anticlimactic demise as punishment for human error.</p><p>“Oh...whoops..”</p><p>“Be careful.” she whispered, Walter had turned his head to see what was going on and Henry felt hot but just nodded, deciding he didn't care to explain what he'd just heard, unsure of if it was real or not. Still, he didn't know what it meant and wished it made any sense to him. </p><p>HE. Who was that? It had shown up a few times and always had a sense of importance about it, a capital letter, the voice didn't seem to be this HIM but it knew of whomever that was, and seemed important themselves. This room, the voices’ sanctuary. Its throne in a sense. He wished he could ask questions but the whispering had fallen silent, the ambience continued. </p><p>Sins. sins somebody wanted to cleanse somebody's sins, he really didn't like the sound of that, he wondered what ‘Receiver’ meant too, really not liking the sound of that either though he didn't know what he thought it would mean. He wondered if he was one of these sinners, or if Walter or Eileen was, or somebody else he had met. Maybe it was a lie, or misleading, something to throw him off or steer him in the wrong direction. </p><p>But it didn't look like he was going to find out just yet.</p><p>They made their way over to the door and Walter touched it softly, hesitating a little before opening it, the hand that held his bat and was now using it as a pseudo cane gripped the handle tightly. Strange as this place was, Henry had the distinct impression that so long as they didn't disrespect the voice from that pit, they were safe. He suspected Walter thought this too, so he understood the desire to stay. However, there was no way home here, nothing else to be said and the three of them filed into a dark room.</p><p>“Oh…” the sound that escaped Walter felt pitiful and small, scared even. </p><p>The room was even more cramped, cold and damp, there was one dim light coming from a crack in the moldy stone walls shedding a ray of clarity on the room. A room with a strange circular elevator he guessed, completely open and just as unfortunate as anywhere else in the room. There was a lever inside and he wondered if it worked, but had no way to verify this. The air was humid but in a cold way, like one was drowning and Henry could assume the discomfort he felt was universal among the three of them. Henry was used to relatively gross or unsanitary places, growing up in run down houses and exploring decrepit areas for fun, his life had consistently included mold and rust. Residue of forgotten memories now left to rot in the elements. This one room gave him that similar feeling, but more aching, like those memories weren't a mixed bag of feelings, but rather a facade hiding something underneath it. A layer of stone between him and some ungodly truth. The room was notably silent. </p><p>Eileen grimaced as she slowly shifted around the strange cylinder in front of them, clearly not interested in touching the walls that were coated in something damp and slimy, a sentiment Henry did share despite his familiarity with this sort of environment. Walter’s reaction however was concerning.</p><p>He stood there almost frozen. The recognition in his gaze was notable and he looked like he was terrified, and in pain. Memories behind his eyes that were clouded and Henry felt like he was looking at something he shouldn't be seeing. Not the same way he felt when he normally saw Walter’s smile fall, no this was something different, this was something wrong, something even more personal. He was breathing heavily and his hands shaking slightly, Walter was in some catatonic state as he stood there looking around at the room. Henry didn't like this, and decided to walk closer, reaching out slightly to get his attention. </p><p>“Hey...are you ok?” he whispered and Walter flinched, his eyes landing on Henry and he took a solid moment to register who he was, legitimate fear in his eyes.</p><p>“I...i'm alright. Uhm..i don't think, i don't know if…”He stammered as if trying to offer an explanation for where they were. </p><p>“Walter, Henry,” Eileen walked back around the cylinder and glanced at the two of them, furrowing her brow in concern before Walter interrupted her.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked, his tone and expression returning to something halfway neutral. </p><p>“I uhm...i see something over here, i don't know what it is but…” she looked a bit scared, prompted the two men to follow her around to the other side, and Henry immediately noticed the hole in the wall. The symbols whispering to him again, and Walter’s gaze reflected recognition as well. Eileen looked over at them and he couldn't exactly decipher what she was feeling just by seeing her but she almost seemed relieved that they obviously could see what she was seeing, or something similar to what she was seeing, he doubted she could see a hole exactly as she likely would have said as much if that were the case. </p><p>“Do you..see something here?” she frowned at them and both Henry and Walter nodded. </p><p>“Another hole. I can't imagine where it leads though. Perhaps home, perhaps somewhere random.” Walter explained, his voice sounded hollow but vaguely hopeful. “I can't imagine the elevator works, and i don't really think it would be a good idea to use it even if it does.”</p><p>“That's an elevator?” Walter nodded and Eileen grimaced, “yeah i'm not willing to risk it either, i guess this is the only option then huh?”</p><p>“Mhm. i would prefer a different solution myself but, i guess this isn't the worst thing.” he wrung his hands nervously, looking over at the hole. Henry wondered if he could hear the noises that he was, strange echoing and crying, he was sure he could smell something like mold or the sweet smell of decay. Henry didn't want to go inside the hole himself, he was scared of them being separated again, and somehow had an idea that this hole wouldn't lead them home, or anywhere close either. Still, he figured they were also right in that they had no choice. Neither Eileen nor Walter said anything, or went to make a move to enter the hole.</p><p>“Well…” he took a deep breath and the other two looked at him, undeterred he walked to the exit gently touching the side of the wall, steeling himself he began to crawl inside. He didn't glance behind him at any point but heard the unmistakable sound of shoes scraping against the stone. So at least he was sure he was being followed. This hole was wet and and the smell was getting worse and worse, he almost wanted to gag but managed to try and force the vomit back into his stomach. He heard the loud banging of fists on a door and sinister laughter, the sound of a child crying, and yelling. He felt sicker and sicker as he began to see the white light and lose all sense of feeling in his cold, damp body.</p><p>
  <em>get in that room. If you make one more fucking sound tonight ill make damn sure you aren't fed again til the boss lets you outta here...fucking brat. </em>
</p><p>It was freezing, he couldn't tell if it was raining or just inexplicably wet. The ground was hard and cold and the wind was biting, it wasn't even that strong but cut into his skin nonetheless. Unseen knives piercing his clothes. He sat up and to his great relief he saw two bodies off a few feet away from him. Walter was lying face down on the ground, and Eileen not far away lying on her side. He then noticed where he was.</p><p>They had been placed on some slight roof area that was nowhere near the top of the building. It was a cylindrical tower of some sort, a very odd one, it looked very old and extremely foreboding. A spiral stairway along the side and a handful of what might've been doors embedded into it. Against his better judgments Henry looked down and saw very little through the fog, noting water surrounding the tower several stories below them but nothing else. He guessed the height and the nearness to some likely large body of water accounted for how wet and cold it was. He felt almost dizzy looking down, and decided to pull his gaze from it, and stood up shakily to wake the other two, likely they could get sick being up here like this, not to mention he felt strangely vulnerable and uneasy from the height and being alone looking around. </p><p>“Eileen? Walter? Hey..” he reached over and gently shook them, Eileen first and then Walter to try and stir them, they didn't seem to hear him but his hands were enough to rouse them, Walter more so than Eileen as he began to shift, picking his head up. Eileen woke up slowly after he shook her and said her name again. </p><p>“Oh...oh man, where are we?” she said after pulling herself to a sitting position and looking around. “Oh..shit we’re ...we’re pretty high up…” she looked over the edge and then seemed terrified. Walter sat up on his knees and said nothing, he looked around and his previous petrified expression returned. Henry was certain he recognized this place, and wasn't glad to see it again. </p><p>“Is...is there somewhere else we can go?” Eileen asked the two of them generally, she seemed very anxious and he couldn't blame her as he was relatively uneasy as well. Henry stood up and offered her his hand, she grabbed it tightly and stood as well, turning her back to the edge, not that the other edge was helpful as it was right in front of them a mere five feet away from them. Upon realizing this she closed her eyes and huddled close to Henry’s arm, he with nothing else he knew to do patted her shoulder in something like reassurance. Walter still did not move.</p><p>“Walter?” he reached a hand out and Walter flinched again seeing it out of the corner of his eye. Henry retracted it as Walter looked up at him, an indescribable expression in his eyes.</p><p>“I.i'm sorry i'm…” Walter sounded like he couldn't breathe, it was hard to really hear him but what he could hear was pathetic and upsetting. He stood up suddenly and though Henry didn't move, it did surprise him, Walter looked frantic. His hands were shaking violently and he kept looking around as if trying to find a way out. Green eyes wide and unblinking as he began pacing around the small area. </p><p>Henry watched him do this, and it seemed like he was the only person able to make a decision on what to do, a mantle he really didn't like in the slightest, but Eileen’s sudden phobia and Walter’s manic terror were not the right mindsets for good choices. He looked around for any solution, he glanced over at the winding path along the side of the tower leading upwards, and ladders along some areas, his eyes fell on the large doors along the side of the walls. That seemed like the only choice available and he really needed to calm the two of them down. </p><p>“Walter, Eileen, i think we can go inside that tower over there, we should get out...out of the wind.” he said, but was unsure if either of them could hear him at first, he hated to have to repeat himself but Walter didn't seem to be very aware of his surroundings, he was muttering to himself, or perhaps singing, it was hard to tell.</p><p>“Walter. Watler we’re going inside..okay?” he said again not much louder but a little firmer. Walter heard him that time.</p><p>“No. no we can't we..we can't go inside.” he turned to face Henry and looked frantic, hands gripping his shoulders	begging him to reconsider this choice.</p><p>“What? Why?” Eileen asked, she didn't let go of Henry's arm, her grip started to hurt but he didn't say anything about it. Walter glanced at her as if just now realizing she was there, no less calm upon this realization. </p><p>“We..it's there's danger in there he's, he's in there he’ll put us in the cell. Beat us, we’ll be in trouble, we can't go in there.” his voice faltered and strangely sounded almost childish. Henry was very put off by this, feeling like Walter was oddly detached to them, as if he were in some alternate reality, or state of delusion seeing something they couldn't see in front of him. He suddenly remembered what he said about this place not being entirely real, being a collection of thoughts and memories, and as neither Henry nor Eileen seemed to recognize it, he assumed this was something from Walter’s mind, based on his reactions. Henry didn't know what to do. They had no choice but to go forward, but there was no way he could force the man in front of him anywhere anyways, not that he even wanted to, whatever Walter had experienced here, he didn't want him to relive it. </p><p>Before any real choice could be made, Henry heard a weird humming noise from around them and then the sound of screeching, he glanced around and saw a swarm of small bird like creatures, he watched them flitting close to his face briefly and he saw that they looked more like bats with odd mouth pieces like an insect, their bodies were fuzzy and bat-like wings looked like they were made of the same things moths wings were. These mothbats squeaked and buzzed near his head and before Henry could react to them, he saw something else rise from below them.</p><p>A body several feet taller than even Walter seemed to rise from the lake below, and from it's drenched wings and mossy skin it appeared to have been sleeping in that water,  possibly for decades, mangled, contorted together all limbs and a spine broken and twisted like a spiral. Seven arms and seven legs with hips and shoulders too long and wide that made up its body and it had no head. Two angelic birds wings rotting off with feathers missing and falling, as it hovered in the air, like it was treading water. There was a rusted sword through its midsection and between one set of it's legs were mangled genitals of some variety though it was too mutilated to tell which it had. What might've been it's chest had too long, deep gashes horizontal from where a collarbone might be to where it's stomach could have started. He could hear trumpets and a hundred voices talking over one another as it hovered closer to them the air seemed to be full of a strange buzzing. </p><p>This angel and it's followers of mothbats began to swarm the three of them, Henry could hardly comprehend what he was looking at and didn't want to keep looking at it, Eileen and Walter saw it as well and both of them seemed almost entranced by it. It appeared like a beast from the book of fucking Revelations and yet the two people next to him appeared to only care about staring at it. The swarm of mothbats surrounded them and began landing on them and biting any skin they could find. Henry grimaced and threw the two or three of the bats off of him, Eileen shook herself from the bats as the pain of a now bleeding bite on her leg must've woken her up.  She looked around frantically, from the bats to the angel hovering closer, it's distorted singing becoming clearer and it's arms making these strange hand gestures at them. Walter looked as though he were willing to walk into its arms, and subsequently be dropped into the unforgiving water below them. Henry grabbed his arm, scaring him out of this strange trance, before he said anything they both heard gunshots.</p><p>Eileen had pulled out her gun, and was shakily aiming at and shooting it at the angel. It connected with one of the creature's legs, and blood began leaking from it's thigh, still it's approach was not deterred. It hovered over them, hands continuing to gesture and it's song melodic but nonsensical, the blood down it's thighs continued to flow heavily. The angel pulled the sword from it's chest, and more blood doused it's whole body, as four of its hands held the handle of the sword and began to swing it around were it's head should be, before bringing  it down with a force Henry could only imagine, Walter shoved Henry to the ground and they managed to avoid the swing of the sword, Hery hitting the floor roughly, disoriented and he heard more gunshots and the singing of the angel warbled some. He glanced up at the angel who was bleeding from one of its hands and it's twisted body. Henry was terrified but remembered that he had a weapon himself, though he was sure he only had three bullets left. Before he could reach in his pocket to try and help Eileen, he felt hands pulling him to his feet and held his arm.</p><p>“Henry we have to go inside...we can't fight this thing.” she shook him urgently, and he managed to both process what she said and nod vigorously. Walter, who Henry realized was unarmed now, seemed to be trying to distract the monster to no avail as it began turning and trying to swing the sword at Eileen and Henry. She shot the Angels wings several times, it's warbling odd crying getting louder and more distorted. </p><p>They made their way backwards and Henry slammed his arm into the door, grateful that it gave way, Eileen was backing away, he sure as hell hoped she had more bullets, Walter was a mere foot or so away from them now, but still stopped as if debating whether the tower or the beast that crawled out from the depths of hell itself were worse. Eileen made the decision for him however, grabbing his arm and Henry on a whim did as well, both of them dragging him inside. Eileen slammed the door, staring at it for a moment until Henry noticed a strange mechanism that he hoped was a lock, which based on the low echoing clunk when he pushed hard, it was. </p><p>They sat there in silence for a good few moments, the strange warbling song was still heard and they sat there anxiously, hearing the banging on the door, likely the sword of the creature. Henry felt a jolt of anxiety every time it connected with the door. A good minute or two passed until the singing began to get quieter. It sounded like the angel was leaving, Henry in his dizzying terror, almost found it funny that it couldn't use the door. Almost.</p><p>“Are you guys ok?” Eileen asked softly when they could just barely hear the singing anymore. Henry sighed shakily but nodded, this was one of the only times they weren't injured,well his arm hurt but it had hurt before and was likely already badly bruised. Her eyes glanced over him and then over to Walter, who Henry realized was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. </p><p>The room as was to be expected was circular in nature, a long cylinder in the center that appeared to contain other rooms, or cells he guessed. The walls were damp and moldy, and bricked like the room with the elevator, the floor was just as disgusting, the whole area looked like a nasty public shower that had been left to rot for a decade, and it smelled about as pleasant. There was a cell door only a few feet from them, rusty and disgusting likely broken, with a large pipe off to the side of the door. The pipe was leaking, an infuriating drip. Drip. Drip. Henry tried to ignore it but it was aggravating him for some reason as he watched Walter panic on the floor.</p><p>“Walter, sweetie hey..” Eileen crouched next to him, trying her best not to touch the walls or floor thus wobbling slightly. Walter didn't say anything, his head was buried in his hands and his shoulders were shaking, his breathing was rattling in his chest, he seemed inconsolable. Henry stood off to the side though his detachment from the situation was only physical, he really didn't want to risk scaring Walter more.</p><p>“Walter?” </p><p>“Mother of mercy, hear the children...hear our sorrows, we...we your devoted..feel our pain for, for you and, and your child, our most holy..” Walter muttered this mantra to himself, barely audible, “To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this vale of tears...to thee we send our...no damn it.” he shook his head and dug his fingers in his now tangled hair, tugging on it, hard.</p><p>“Walter, hey, don't do that.” EIleen reached for his hands and he flinched away from her, his eyes wide as he looked at her like she was going to hurt him. “It's ok..it's ok Walter i'm not going to hurt you, we’re not gonna hurt you. You're okay. I promise.” </p><p>“i...where are..where is he? Is he coming?” he asked her and she just shook her head, obviously not understanding what he meant, but trying to help him anyways.</p><p>“No, nobodies coming. It's just me and Henry okay? Nobody else is coming. You're okay.” she said softly, her voice seemed to soothe him slightly, she hadn't tried to touch him again which might have helped him feel better. Henry could see him physically relax albeit just slightly, and felt some semblance of relief himself. Walter was scared but he wasn't panicking anymore and could be reasoned with. </p><p>“Just..just you and Henry...thats...thats okay.” Walter nodded and took a deep breath, his eyes appeared to be watering somewhat. Whatever had come over him being inside this building he was clearly trying hard to calm himself down. Henry took a tentative step closer to him, and Walter glanced up at him to register that he was also here, though it took a few moments for it to fully set in. He seemed to take this as proof that Eileen was telling him the truth. Slowly stood up from his place on the floor, shivering slightly, evidently his coat wasn't helping all that much, Henry noticed his hair was damp.</p><p>“I...i'm sorry i don't..well, i know why...i'm sorry really.” Walter said softly, there was something behind his eyes that seemed pained, like being in this building was hurting him. </p><p>“Don't worry about it.” Eileen replied, her brow still furrowed in concern, she reached slightly over as if to set a hand on his arm but didn't actually touch him. “Do you know where we are Walter?” </p><p>“...yes. I know, I know where we are.” He swallowed thickly, his eyes shifting to the grimy walls, “its..it's the Water Prison. Well...technically it's a panopticon. But we always, always just called it the, the Water Prison or, the round cells.” he cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. </p><p>“Panopticon...aren't those, really really illegal. “ Eileen frowned more, Henry had no idea what the hell that was but based on her reaction it wasn't good in any sense. He wondered who he referred to with ‘we’. </p><p>“Perhaps. I don't know...but i, i don't know how many people...knew of it. It's out on the lake after all…” Walter shrugged and began walking around the area, seeming lost.</p><p>“Shit. well i guess it doesn't matter. We definitely need a way out of here.” Eileen watched him wander around, “Especially because of...that thing outside, what the hell even…”</p><p>“It was like those dogs I guess.” Henry said softly, he felt somewhat sick for reasons he couldn't put a name to, “but we should..should leave.”</p><p>“There might be a way out in the basement.” Walter, who was now staring at what appeared to be the fattest leech Henry had ever seen, spoke up in a dull, lifeless tone. </p><p>“Seems like a good place to start.” Eileen nodded, she glanced at Henry, who wordlessly agreed as she bagan walking forward. She looked frantic and tired, concerned for Walter whose mood swings were unnerving to say the least. He had yet to actually cry or express any anger but Henry was expecting, though unprepared, for both. What perturbed him more was the fact that he kept getting these feelings from Walter, almost like empathy but far more obscure, there was no way he should be feeling the illness that crept into Walters' face the longer he was in this building. Henry didn't know what kind of building this was, but it had an awful air about it, one that choked him even as he could still breathe. </p><p>Sins. there were sins in this building. That voice from the pit rang in his head. </p><p>He didn't have time to consider this much, the creeping disgusted feeling grew from the pit in his stomach and threatened to extricate itself from his mouth and he decided he couldn't handle thinking too much about it. It occurred to him that he'd pushed so much of this to the back of his mind that the second he got home he'd likely have an anxiety attack so bad he'd kneel over and die. </p><p>They circled around the room and it became immediately clear that they were getting nowhere fast, stopping in front of the same door they’d rammed into a handful of minutes earlier. Walter stood there vacently and Eileen sighed a bit frustrated, Henry didn't really feel anything but cold. He'd taken a light one over of himself to find several holes in his now damp sweater, dirt on his nice jeans, and rips in his button up shirt. He wondered what his hair and face looked like, probably bad. Sure Walter and Eileen also had blood caked on them but oddly he was still more worried about his own appearance, he wouldn't call himself vain, but he was self centered. Gross. </p><p>“Fucks sake. What do we do now…” Eileen sighed and glanced up at Walter, his eyes were glazed over, he didn't have anything for her. </p><p>“I guess we could… look in the cells, “ Henry suggested, only to see Walter look over at him sharply in a panic, “or...well there's other floors we could look through...”</p><p>“Yeah..that might uhm..we might find an exit there…” Walter nodded, his eyes landed on one of the cell doors, shuddering a little. </p><p>“Do you think that thing will be out there still?” Eileen inquired, her hand on the mechanism that locked the door leaning close as if listening for the singing, Henry didn't hear anything, didn't feel it's presence but was weary as well. </p><p>“Well...well there's no..way to tell. It'd be better than in here…” Walter’s voice had been reduced to a whisper, it looked like Eileen disagreed with his statement but disregarded it as they'd come to a conclusion. She unlocked the door and pulled out her gun again, pushing it open slowly and glancing around for any danger. She walked out and then motioned for the two of them to follow, Walter was the next out the door after hovering close to the exit right behind her. </p><p>Being outdoors wasn't much better but it was better. Besides the lack of suffocating moldiness, Henry also felt like ten pounds of weight on his chest had been lifted and though it was freezing now with all the dampness that seemed to have seeped into his bones, he felt relieved. </p><p>Eileen wrapped her sweater around herself tighter, trembling, Henry had the inexplicable urge to try and wrap an arm around her, but didn't go through with it. He felt it would be inappropriate despite their situation. Walter’s eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily still but he didn't think he was panicking anymore. </p><p>“Those damn bats are gone...somehow it doesn't make me feel better.” Eileen commented with a deep breath. </p><p>Henry looked around at the cylinder building, noting the ladders on one side but when he reached over to touch it, he noted it was slippery and cold. Eileen looked at him questioningly but he just shook his head. It didn't seem like it was a good idea considering. He bitterly guessed they were going to be heading up the strange spiraling path, not that any of them wanted to.  Henry looked up at Walter and he seemed calmer now, empty and unfeeling clearly, but calmer. As they slowly began their accent, Eileen shifted as close to the edge of the wall as possible  and he put himself between her and the edge, with Walter who kept alternating between being in front of and behind them. Henry wondered if now was a time to ask more about the Prison, but everytime he went to try, Walter’s empty expression turned him off to it. Something had happened to Walter here, that much was true and obvious, but what he couldn't be sure. He rambled about a man, a man who had done something to him in this building, possibly trapped him in one of those cells. When though, and how and why? All questions Henry had but he couldn't verbalize and he really didn't think he actually wanted to know. It occurred to him he didn't know enough about Walter to really justify needing to know this. Thus he tried to leave the questions to the back of his mind. </p><p>After what felt like a million years of climbing they found another of the double doors. Walter, who was right behind them clearly hesitated, while Henry and Eileen began to open the very rusted doors, giving them a much harder time than necessary. Between the efforts of two of them it opened, a strange snapping noise but it was open at least. Eileen set her hands on her hips with a sigh, her and Henry both looked at Walter who was staring into the room and trembling again. Eileen reached over and took his hand which clearly startled him somewhat, to the point that he looked confused or even scared, but he took a breath and let her lead him inside. </p><p>The door slammed behind them suddenly causing all of them to jump and turn around to see why but there was nothing there. Walter looked around and took a deep breath but was clearly terrified, brow furrowed. Henry couldn't help but feel terrible for him, it occurred to him that the roles had been reversed from their first journey through a similar hellish world. Henry was now privy to something he shouldn't be seeing, something from Walter’s life, something that happened to him here. It made him feel dirty, like he was no different somehow than Joseph peering into his bathroom, but he tried to shake the thought. Now wasn't the time for guilt.</p><p>“Shit… hopefully we can get out of here.” Eileen muttered, still holding Walter’s hand. This room was exactly the same as the one downstairs, though Henry noted more leeches on the walls, he saw Walter’s eyes linger on them and he swallowed hard. </p><p>They began walking forward and very quickly came across a slightly open cell door, Eileen approached it, looking into the room that was quite dark with only a small hole of light coming from somewhere high in the wall, while Walter stood a good foot behind her, their hands still interlocked tightly. He stared at the room with abject terror, even as Henry could only see a bed, table like fixture, and toilet inside. It very much seemed like a prison cell. She turned to say something but froze, her eyes wide at something right behind Henry, who slowly turned to look himself. </p><p> He had to blink several times as he stared at a creature that was nearly seven feet tall, it had two human faces that resembled bloated dead infants with closed eyes, it's body was simply covered in a large brown cloak of sorts, though it dripped black goo and was ripped and torn in places. It had no legs, instead it hled itself up with long arms and massive hands, one of which it was perched on, the other one was pointing directly at Henry. He was frozen in place as he heard something, loud and clear despite it being in a whispered voice. </p><p>
  <em>Receiver.</em>
</p><p>Before any of them could react, the creature set it's hand on the ground and charged forward, much faster than Henry would have expected something with no legs to move. He had no time to react before the creature was on top of him, it swung it's hand as hard as possible and made contact with his chest launching him into the wall, he felt all the air leave his lungs and his head smacked against the tile, white spots blurring his vision and disorienting him. The monster kept walking forward and raised it's hand again, Henry reacted as best as he could and rolled away from the monster, crawling on all fours, slipping on the slime on the floor. He glanced behind him watching the monster smack the wall and began falling over with a strange groan. Henry took the opportunity to fumble in his pocket and pulled out the revolver, getting to his feet shakily and walking over to the monster as it struggled to climb to, well, it's hands, he pointed the gun at the things head.</p><p>The shot reverberated along the walls and hurt Henry’s already throbbing head. The creature still twitched and he knew he didn't have the bullets to waste on this thing, it was dying clearly, and though he felt awful there wasn't another option.</p><p>He took his foot and crushed the monster's head with his heel until it stopped moving. </p><p>Taking deep breaths and rubbing his head, Henry could hardly breathe but realized he had no idea where Walter and Eileen had gone, until he heard a rattling of bars and a voice calling for him. He found Eileen standing on the other side of the door, likely standing on her toes to see out the door. </p><p>“Henry are you okay?” </p><p>“Yeah..it uhm..it's dead.” he answered her, standing very close to the door and leaning on it, still dizzy and sick. </p><p>“Thank god. Henry..the uhm..” she looked behind her, brow furrowed, “the door isn't opening…” </p><p>“Oh..damn, is..is Walter there?” Henry asked though that was a stupid question. His head still felt a bit dizzy. </p><p>“Yeah he's…” she looked behind her and Henry saw Walter sitting on the ground with his head on his knees, hands buried in his hair, his shoulders shaking. Henry could only assume that he was terrified of the situation he now found himself in. </p><p>“Damn It....i don't know..” Henry gripped the handle of the revolver as hard as he could. Still terrified of the monster's corpse behind him.</p><p>“You gotta help us out of here Henry, i don't know how but we can't leave there's no other way out…” </p><p>Henry examined the door frowning, he pocketed the revolver, and grabbed the door and tried to pry it open, but it was stuck firm. </p><p>“Maybe...maybe there will be a key or something around here?” he suggested, she thought about it for a moment, looking down and over at Walter. </p><p>“Shit i guess there's nothing else to do...i don't want you to leave but we...we need to get him out of here, me too.” Eileen nodded, “you..you had a gun right?”</p><p>“Yeah but..i might only have a couple bullets left.” </p><p>“Well...i don't think there's gonna be anything in this room that'll hurt us, there might be more of those baby...whatever those were..” She sighed and held out her gun, "you might want to take this with you." </p><p>“Wait.” they both paused to look down at Walter, whose eyes were red and watering, “Henry don't...please don't...don't kill any of those..those children..please?”</p><p>“Walter...that's what's he supposed to..” Eileen started but Henry touched the top of her hand through the bars to get her attention.</p><p>“Okay. if i can help it, I won't. Don't worry.” Henry nodded and Walter seemed to believe him. He didn't know why he had agreed, but something about his soft pleading for those bastardization of children made him feel like he had to agree, he wanted to anyway. </p><p>“Thank you…” Walter said quietly and set his head back in his knees. Eileen looked between them but Henry just nodded.</p><p>“I'm gonna find a way to get you guys out okay...i'll be alright. You keep your gun.” he assured them and she just nodded.</p><p>“Be careful Henry. “ She turned and walked over to Walter and she knelt by him. Henry turned and walked away from the door.</p><p>He had no idea what he was going to do now, his confidence had shattered the second he'd walked away. Still he tried to remain resolute, they needed his help, something he wasn't used to but now was as good a time as any to start. Walter’s hunched shoulders and nearly crying figure and Eileen’s concerned, terrified expression burned into his mind, and while he didn't exactly square his shoulders, he held himself as high as he could as he decided to leave the circular room again. </p><p>Alone again but for once with a goal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Folsom Prison Blues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[When I was just a baby, my mama told me "Son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns"// But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die, When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry//Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free//But those people keep on movin', And that's what tortures me]</p><p>The walls of old buildings often hold the pain of what happened there.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>here we are another long chapter whew<br/>very glad to be at this part in the story as im excited for the next several chapters! thanks to everyone whos been leaving comments as always i love them alot &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry’s favorite kind or weather tended to lean more towards cold yet sunny, but outside the Water Prison was not so kind as to offer him the respite of that elusive star. If he had not lived his whole life in Maine he might have wondered if the lack of sunlight was a cause for some of his depression. Maybe it still was. He couldn't imagine such an environment was good for people. </p><p>The outside was just as cold as before, his ruined sweater providing no comfort to his aching body and freezing skin. Henry was certain he'd get pneumonia at this point considering, hell if he lived through his maybe that would kill him. He didn't have the money to be going to the hospital. Then he wondered if he even had a job at this point, had it been hours? days ? he sure didn't know and it didn't look like he was going to be finding out anytime soon. The day kept getting better as he decided to go down to the bottom floor, figuring he could start looking for solutions there. </p><p>The Angel didn't make an appearance as he walked, he could hear fluttering wings and saw some of those mothbats trying to impede his progress by bothering his eyes, he took to slapping some of them out of his face and off his legs when they approached him. He wondered if the monster had retreated to the water below, it had been bleeding quite a bit from Eileen’s gun, he almost wanted to hope that it had died, but knew better than to hope. </p><p>When he rounded the next loop of the path he noticed the only door was one that was inside the area of the platform they'd awoken on, he hadn't realized it was a roof of some kind but he guessed it made sense. When he jostled the handle it creaked and he managed to force it open with his poor abused shoulder, at least he was out of the wind. The room was just as dark and disgusting as the rest of the building, Henry noted more fat leeches sipping along the walls like earthworms in mud as well as water dripping from the ceiling. There was a door just parallel to him and a set of double doors on his right, the room opened up more on the left and he noticed another hole, unfortunately filled in with cement, and a note taped to the wall. </p><p>Avoiding the leeches on the floor, Henry approached the hole to read the note and maybe get some sort of directions, his old shoes slipped on the floor slightly as there was barely any traction on the bottoms of them after years of wear and tear, he had meant to buy new ones at some point, but obviously there was nothing to do about it now. He pulled the slightly damp note off the wall that had been attached with one comically measly bit of scotch tape and tried to read through the slightly smudged writing. </p><p>
  <em>John</em><br/>
<em>We’ve had to change the locks again since ******* fuckin broke em, dumb bastard, the code to the door should be in that guide book in the tower, as is the mechanism to open that one door on the second floor since Steven got stuck in there with one of the brats, little shit tried to bite his fuckin finger off, youd think they were feral the way they act. Anywho did you hear about the boss wanting to fire the Pig? Something about him being drunk every time he comes into work, not about what he did to the brats obviously, but i guess the Director said she didn't want anybody fired. Fucked up huh. Anyways, get your shit out of my car would ya?</em><br/>
<em>-Grant</em>
</p><p>Well that was helpful, and rather uncomfortable to read. He guessed he could try and get into the ‘tower’ whatever that meant. He decided not to take the note with him as it was gross, and he tried to put it back on the wall with the flimsy piece of tape, but it didn't hold and floated onto a puddle on the ground in front of him and began to dissolve. Deciding he was more grossed out by wet paper than he was aggravated by something not being where it was supposed to be, he turned and tried to leave the room through the small door, only to find that it was locked. </p><p>He sighed, the double doors likely didn't lead to anywhere helpful, but he didn't feel like braving the weather again just yet, he guessed he could explore whatever was on the first floor, though likely it wouldn't help all that much it would put off having to climb the spiral again, he was getting sick of that. Maybe he’d find a clue as to where this guide book was, it seemed like these Dreamscapes did in fact give hints for it's puzzles and riddles, Henry just needed to find them, and deduce the answer on his own. He could probably do that. </p><p>Thus through the rickety double doors he went, glad it opened with little in the way of effort. A near identical circular room to the one he'd left Walter and Eileen in lay in front of him, and as he looked around he sort of doubted there would be much of interest here, but decided it best to try anyways. He set his hand on each of the doors he passed attempting to find one that opened, leaving a greasy slime on his hands when he touched them that made his skin crawl, only to hear a loud clink! Telling him that it was locked. He got to the third or fourth door only for it to give way to his hand and open outwards. Shaking the bit of goo off and making sure to prop the heavy door open with a chunk of the wall he found, Henry entered the cell.</p><p>Dark, unoccupied, and clearly never cleaned there were a few immediately noticeable things about the small chamber. One being the noose hanging from a wooden beam in the ceiling. It held no body, but swung ominously, a slow moving pendulum, despite the lack of breeze in the room. Under it on a filthy bed was a note, written in what appeared to be crayon. </p><p>
  <em>I'm sick of being watched.</em>
</p><p>Henry stared at it, the face of a future he often imagined for himself and it occurred to him that the note he had found implied the prisoners here had been children. Something that had only now sunk in and the pained dread of the implications there made him sick. Children in these cells, children locked away on a tower off in a lake like hardened criminals. And for what? Why? What crime could a child commit? None that warranted psychological tourture. It was starting to become clear what Eileen had meant about this building being illegal.</p><p>It also occurred to him that Walter had been held here for some amount of time, some number of years ago, and that the ‘we’ he had been referring to had to have been children as well. His stomach felt like it was full of stones. Walter was raised in an orphanage, thus, whoever was in charge hare, had been locking orphans in a prison. And the conditions, whatever was real about them, were bad enough to cause a child to end their own life.</p><p>Walter had been hurt here, in some horrible way. Henry wasn't sure what to do with that revelation. </p><p>He heard footsteps and the light from the hole in the ceiling was blacked out. Henry felt like eyes were gouging into his body, knowingly and pointedly, accusing him. Scrutinizing him and his body and his choices, like they knew him. He didn't know why, but he felt distinctly unclean. The footsteps slid against stone, and began walking away, lightning the room, and darkening Henry’s spirits. He couldn't stand to be here anymore and turned to leave as quickly as possible. A filth on his skin he couldn't seem to understand. He kicked the rock out from its place holding the door open and the hefty metal door slammed behind him, but even in his flinching it was a relief. </p><p>He turned to walk away from the door, he wanted to push this all down, but he couldn't help obsessively thinking about the implications of what he'd found, and wanting answers and knowing he didn't need them and that he very well might throw up if he learned more. This was worse than what Walter had seen, it seemed like Henry had some amount of control, he'd pulled Walter away before he could see anything, but there was nowhere for him to run away from his past and now both Eileen and Henry could piece together this tragedy from his childhood.</p><p>He continued his pattern of trying to open the doors, getting to the second one before it gave way again. Entering this room he noticed immediately a huge hole in the center of the room, it was ringed with red and black inside as if it was eternal, much like the one in that room from before but abjectly unholy, it stunk of rot and burned hair. He stared down into the pit trying desperately to see anything inside it but no light seemed to reach it. Henry remembered that this place, while it appeared real and likely had a real counterpart, was part of some dream. He wondered how much was real and how much really couldn't be, he tried to think back to Ashfield or the apartments but there wasn't anything entirely equivalent there. </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted when he turned around and was face to face with a hand about three times bigger than his face. Pointing directly at him, and blocking the exit was another of the infants, it felt like time had stopped as both of them waited, for what, he didn't know. The voice rose from nowhere again.</p><p>
  <em>Receiver</em>
</p><p>Henry tried to react, really he did, but there was no reacting to a massive hand pummeling one's ribs and knocking him backwards, tripping over his feet into the hole. He remembered not being able to breathe, and then not being able to see, and then…</p><p>The impact of the hard floor on his back didn't entirely register at first, and then when it did it was agonizing. Gritting his teeth and grunting as he forced himself off the floor. Good god why couldn't he have just hit his head and died. No, that was dramatic and frankly inconsiderate to his poor companions locked in a cell, without him they'd surely starve to death, or even worse somehow. That said it really hurt. Duty overriding his agony and the more self-serving desire to lay here and rot, Henry managed to get to his feet and try to stretch the pain out of his spine. It didn't work of course and the effort was rewarded with punishment, why the human body wasn't designed to be more bouncy he didn't know, he guessed it would be impractical in his day to day, but still. Might save a lot of bones.</p><p>He found himself in what appeared to be a small cafeteria, given the lunch tables and even the remains of a microwave so filthy it would likely poison any food someone put in it, if not catch it on fire from all the residue inside. The broken tables reminded him of school, though without the signature noise that felt like sandpaper on his ears as a child, now there was nothing but some kind of sludge hardened on the seats. It was disgusting and smelled foul, the scent of the room was making his head swim and his lungs felt tight like he'd inhaled dust, frankly he was already wheezing and both the baby attacking him and the presumed mildew and mold weren't helping the situation, this place might as well be a biohazard at best.</p><p>It then occurred to him that the child, or perhaps children He wasn't sure if both heads were conscious or not, could likely fall into the hole above him and he worried that it would follow him. He remembered his promise to Walter, and then wondered why he’d done so, maybe it was that Walter looked close to tears when he had asked. Henry had never been able to look coldly at someone in any emotional state. Walter was odd, the smile along his face was always so pleasant, and even in a state of concern or distress there was always this sense of control about him, he was worried, but he had an idea, a plan and was above all calm and personable. Not here though, not in this prison, not in what appeared to be hell placed in the middle of what might've been a lake.  </p><p>He stumbled over to the double doors that provided an exit, and realized he could hear crying, softly, as if someone didn't want to be heard, crying, a small voice, like that of a child. Henry thought it was coming from under one of the tables, and though he turned to look, he didn't see anything, nobody was there. But the crying still continued. Unnerved he turned and set his hand on the handle and began to open the door, wanting away from the sound by any means possible. Upon stepping out of the room he had a sudden agony in his head and he gripped it hard and closed his eyes against the oddly bright light in the room as he heard a trembling voice in his ear that sounded like the ghost of a memory. </p><p>
  <em>“I'm sorry..i'm not a bad girl, mister i just wanted to find my sister...i'm sorry please don't put me in the..the cell alone please..i'll be good i promise..”</em>
</p><p>The voice and the subsequent screams he could hear, the begging, the pleading slowly dissipated and Henry’s throbbing head slowly became less and less painful. That said the sick feeling in his gut only grew worse. He didn't want to think about what had happened to that child and he felt the intrusive ideas trying to force themselves into his thoughts but he couldn't let them. The abhorrent nature of his dread wouldn't let his unfortunate mind obsess anymore over it. He forced his focus to the room around him, and not how much he wanted to vomit. </p><p>It was a hallway, a door a little bit to his right and another in front of him, he could see a keypad on the side of the door and figured that was what the note from before had been referring to.all the way to his left the room opened up to be circular with a long ladder leading upward and was the source of the light in the room. Curious he approached it, it was a little wet like the ones outside but not as slick and he was tired of walking in the same rooms over and over. He grabbed the bars and began climbing, praying to whatever god was out there he wouldn't fall, or if he did it would knock him out cold and he could let the leeches have his body. If he focused on climbing he didn't have to think about that voice. </p><p>He made it to the first floor and his focus was immediately torn away from climbing the ladder, and he nearly slipped. </p><p>Another circular room but smaller, a desk just ahead of him and several holes in the walls at just the right height to look into them. He grimaced as he pulled himself up to sit on the side of the hole. Not wanting to really touch the floor but not having a choice, he realized this must’ve been the source for the light in all of the cells. Standing and walking over to one of the holes and peering into it confirmed this. Seeing only another of the cells with the bloody beds and a hole in the floor. He felt sort of gross for looking into the hole for a reason he couldn't put a name to, and pulled himself away, realizing that before there had been a shadow in this area, like a person was patrolling the holes, but they were nowhere to be seen now. He wondered if he had that same effect he'd felt. Even if there was nobody there. He walked over to the desk but didn't see anything there, he wondered if that guide book was around, the ladder still went up.</p><p>A deep sigh and resigning himself to the fact that he had to keep climbing, Henry grabbed the sides of the ladder and hopped onto the bars, climbing upwards and feeling a little more confident in it as he didn't slip so much, still a little unnerved by the drop below but once again as long as he didn't overthink it, he'd be fine. </p><p>Pulling himself onto the next level he saw there was a new addition to this room, a strange pedestal with a large round metal steering wheel like object. Henry had to maneuver himself oddly to get himself onto the platform and very awkwardly got to his feet, much like maneuvering himself in his apartments he was grateful that he didn't have his companions with him. The acrobatics of the human body were a disaster and he hated them. </p><p>There was a small open notebook on the table, and Henry walked over to the desk finding several scribbled notes, it seemed completely dry unlike the vaguely damp table but it wasn't the weirdest thing he'd seen today so he overlooked it in favor of picking up the book, revealing the word PIG carved into the wood. He guessed he knew, sort of, who this desk belonged to at one point. Whomever this ‘pig’ was, Henry didn't agree with the use of the word having an idea on what it could be commenting on, but there was no other name attributed to this person. The wooden chair was worn and had also been carved into though he couldn't make out any words in it. He flipped through the pages, finding several notes he barely understood, lots of them apparently redacted in the text. The first one he found that was complete seemed to be a clue. </p><p>
  <em>if you wanna be disposin of those bodies into the cuttin room, you gotta line up the holes just right, the devil's number oughta be the right amount of turns to open em up so we can throw em down there. If you gotta open that door on the second floor you'll have to turn it twice more since ya gotta go the other way to get that damn thing open <em></em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Whatever a ‘cuttin room’ was Henry had no interest in it, and in fact didn't want to know in the slightest. He guessed he had to deal with opening the door to the room on the second floor. Speaking of, he pocketed the notebook and walked over to a few of the holes, not seeing much of anything in the first couple, but at the third he found who he'd been searching for.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He could just make out Walter hunched against the wall still, or rather his hair more than anything, Eileen had her arm around his shoulder and their voices were audible but quiet. He heard her talking calmly to him and listened in, wanting to tell himself that it was out of concern, but there was part of it that was mostly curiosity.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“It's ok Walter, i know it can't be..easy to be here, whatever happened. I'm sorry sweetie, Henry’s gonna help us out of here alright? You're gonna be ok.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“...sorry…’m sorry Miss Galvin..i don't know why we’re here..” Walter shook his head, his voice sounded weak.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“You don't have to call me that honey.” Eileen started softly.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“..sorry.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hey you don't have to be sorry. It's alright.” she maneuvered him a little so he could rest his head on her shoulder and there was some stiffness in his posture as if he were forcing himself to stay rigid, her gently rubbing his shoulder seemed to soothe him slightly despite this. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Henry felt odd, like he was intruding on something personal and even intimate. That he was prying into this moment between people much closer than he could ever be. Like reading a novel but instead of passively enjoying people who weren't real, he was violating something between the two of them that he was never supposed to be a part of. He backed away from the hole but noticed that the light in their room didn't change as he pulled away. As if he were no more than a ghost.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He guessed he was glad he wasn't the one trapped in that room with Walter, there was no way in hell he’d have been able to comfort him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He turned to the wheel behind the ladder and went to investigate it, he wondered if the door really would open by moving it the right way but he couldn't figure out which way he should turn it. He guessed he didn't have any real choice but to try it and took hold of the wheel, something told him to turn it left, and so he did. The squeaking of the rusted metal turning made him recoil, it felt like chewing aluminum foil but the sensation decided to settle itself in his ears. Still he took a deep breath and turned it again, hearing a loud creak, and a strange sound like metal snapping in half. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He walked over to the hole where he'd seen Eileen and Walter and peered in, finding that the two of them were staring at the open door. Eileen scrambled to her feet and leaned over grabbing Walter’s hand to help him up.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well...i don't know if Henry did it or not but, it's open now. What do you want to do?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Uhm..uhm i..” Walter’s voice seemed to be that sort of soft childish tone he'd had outside the building. “I don't want to be inside..anymore.” </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Hm...okay well, we can maybe step outside for a few minutes and then try to find Henry alright?” she told him and Walter nodded, though Henry couldn't see his expression. They headed out of the room before the door could close in on them and he truthfully was relieved he managed to seemingly fix the issue. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>With that sorted he couldn't help but feel like he’d finally accomplished something. Eileen and Walter were safe, or if not safe at least autonomous. He took a deep breath and glanced around the room, making up his mind to at least climb back to the second floor in hopes of catching up to them. He decided to keep the notebook on him just in case it was useful, even if he felt sort of gross about carrying it he also had this inkling he needed to, like there was some history hidden in its carefully redacted pages. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He went to climb down the ladder but stopped before he began, looking over at the wheel. Something telling him to turn it again, to do what the notebook had suggested even as he couldn't rationalize why he would do such a thing. It was that gut feeling, that strange, premonition almost that told him he would regret not doing it later. He wanted to argue with it, if only to avoid the feeling of hearing that awful goddamn noise again, but he couldn't, knowing it would aggravate him not to do it more than it would hurt to listen to that noise.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He walked over and took a hold of the cold metal, eyes closed he remembered the note, the devil's number, six likely, and two more than that since he opened the door on the second floor, so eight times then. He turned it, and turned it, and turned it again, each time he would rather have just smacked his head into the stone wall as it likely would have felt about the same, but he powered through, five, six, seven, eight. He didn't hear any indication that he’d done it, whatever it even was, but that nagging feeling left him, so he guessed he must've. Very helpful. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He didn't like these premonitions, they felt a little too specific to be normal. Connected to that whispering in the holes and the way he heard that child's voice. It was all aimed at him and he couldn't tell if it was aiding or abetting him. That said he had to admit if this was this area’s ‘puzzle’ it was rather weak. With his luck he was likely jinxing himself just by thinking it. He just sighed, itching a spot on his arm and began to climb back down the ladder, feeling marginally less afraid of falling now.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As his foot made contact with the ground again, he heard a strange noise and the smell of rot surrounded him, worse than before. His head began to throb and he had to bury his face in his hands as it felt like he was being hit over the head with hammers. A voice slipping into his ears, this small pathetic sound. Like a coward begging him for something. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>c'mon. You don't need to tell...tell the Sister about what happened ok? It wasn't so bad..i'll bring ya somethin nice if you keep quiet. See, you tell her it was just water and me and you just had a chat ok? I'll tell her you were good. We both need her to like us, got it? We need to work together here, you're my buddy right? Good. good</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The headache receded slightly as the voice slipped away like he heard the recording of a long repressed memory. He felt so filthy at the words and the visceral feeling they gave him. Pain and disgust seemed to seep from the walls like the sludge and mold that if Henry wasn't crazy, seemed to be growing. Strange holes appeared on the floor and he saw huge moldy, fungi ridden bulbs begin rising from them, and Henry recognized the strange mushrooms from the city.  The entire room seemed to be filled with them rising from the floor and he decided he had no desire to be surrounded by these things, remembering that they had hurt Walter when touched.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Getting himself out of this room post haste though the double doors, he found that he was in another section of the spiral tower though still indoors, there were two ladders on each side of the doors, one leading up and the other down, and Henry, though he had very little in the way of a clue on where he was going, decided to go up, he had to get upstairs to find Eileen and Walter and then decide how they could get the hell out of here. He glanced up, thankfully not seeing anything very interesting. He wondered how damn big this place could be, and yet again where it was located on what must've been a lake, based on Walter having grown up in Silent Hill, he had to assume it was Toluca Lake, but he'd never seen anything like this building in all of his visits. Nothing here made sense, he knew that intrinsically and didn't understand why he wanted it to start now, but the hard wiring of his mind desperately wanted it to add up somehow. He grabbed the sides of the ladder and hauled himself upward, still confused and starting to lose that adrenaline that had been carrying him through. Once he hauled himself up next to another set of doors, he sat on the ground for a moment to rest, legs dangling through the hole left to accommodate the ladder. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>There was a low droning noise coming from this room, swelling and fading in such an unnerving way, like the building itself was moaning in agony. It was dark as hell and he had to squint to see anything. Henry could hear whispers in the walls of what he could decipher as children's voices but he didn't know what they were saying. He felt ill, and like there was a weight in his very soul. This place was themed after human misery and he had to say he hated the decorations. His headache came and went, never as bad as it was downstairs or when he had that vision or whatever the hell it was, but he could sort of hear more voices when his head hurt worse, like his head was a fuzzy radio slipping in and out of clarity. He sort of felt like he could lay down and simply began to rot away. Picking up signals of suffering without being privy to context, not that he really needed it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He needed to get up, and keep moving as he had this sudden fear that he wouldn't be able to if he sat here any longer, this wasn't a premontionan as much as animal instinct but he followed it anyways. He pulled himself to his feet and felt the weight on his shoulders get heavier, and he had the sensation of hands pawing at his fingers, like little children grasping at his hands to drag him down the ladder and away from his goal. He wondered about these children, if it was something of the dream or something almost real, Henry had some experience with voices and ghostly hands touching him and asking him for something, but this was different somehow. Henry felt his head spinning. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He walked slowly forward, hearing crying in his ears, voices becoming faded as he walked away, seeing a small door ahead of him, an exit hopefully. The voices cried louder. He didn't know what they were saying, but he didn't want to know. The ten feet between where he had been and the door seemed to take forever, and yet he nearly ran into it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He unlocked it and heard one more plea, one that was all too clear to him. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>please don't..don't leave...don't leave us in here it's-it's so cold...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The plea was terrifying, it broke his heart and he felt like somehow it had come from somewhere deep inside himself, that child he once had been, pleading for comfort, wanting someone to care and save them. Henry couldn't oblige, there was no way he could turn back now, knowing that the cloud of despair would overtake any rational thought. He forced himself through the door and closed it hard, realizing he was back in the room with the filled in hole. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Henry took a moment to collect himself and his thoughts and feelings, he was having several of them at once and thus wasn't identifying any of them coherently. His breathing was shaky as was his hands, for god’s sake he felt like he was surrounded by something, eyes he couldn't see staring into him as he tried to stop feeling like he was about to be attacked. Guilt digging into him, sinking its claws deep like it intended to chain him to the floor while he looked around trying to remember how to escape. He stumbled out of the room into the round rooms and one of the cells, he wasn't thinking just moving he had to get out of the open, he forced himself into a corner of one of the rooms, behind the raised table that had been used as a desk. He sat in that corner curling into himself resting his head on his knees and tried, desperately not to cry or break down. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Fear seemed to rush through his body like a white hot fire, he was cold, he was shaking, and he was still somewhat wet. And he sat there hearing the footsteps passing by the hole in the wall, feeling that familiar boiling in his stomach and jumping in his heart when he heard the scraping of heavy shoes against stone. He sat there as the moisture from his breath only slightly warmed his sweater and nose. He kept shuddering and his choppy, painful breathing wasn't improving. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Maybe it was everything, everything he’d been seeing for a length of time he did not know, and those voices were simply a tipping point on anxiety he'd barely been aware of. It was inevitable. Wasn't it always. He wasn't crying but he wanted to, he couldn't . he knew that, but he wanted to. He felt like that child again, that child he had been, the child in his old home, the one listening in on the other side of the door hiding the fighting. What was it with this place, these dreams, this nightmare, with forcing him down into that role of being a child, small and vulnerable and afraid. He never wanted to be that again. He had gone out of his way to save himself the humiliation of being at the mercy of someone or something else. He had closed the doors, locked himself away and for what? Here he was, small, alone, terrified, and weak. It hadn't made a difference. This terrified him more, a soft pitiful sound in his throat, it was all too much.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Perhaps he should just lay down and die, rot maybe. Maybe he deserved this place. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He didn't think anything would ever get better, he felt like he would likely die soon. That said, he didn't have any other choice but to stand up after calming the physical effects of his panic. His hands shook still, but his chest only hurt slightly and he felt the strange empty floating sensation in his stomach. He guessed he'd be alright, but he was drained and wanted nothing more than to take a very short walk off the side of the staircase going up the side of the tower upstairs. Still, he didn't want Walter and Eileen to get hung up looking for him, with a pang he realized he'd forgotten about them, and then felt guilty. He forced legs that felt like they were made of lead forward and back outside the cell. For whatever reason the huge pipes on the side of the door were gushing with icy water, flooding the already slightly wet floor. He hadn’t been expecting it so the spray from the pipe splashed over his pant leg and seeped into his shoes. He grimaced, he guessed there was some hole he hadn't noticed before in them, he really needed new shoes. Confused but not all that interested in why the water had been turned on, he made his way outside onto the staircase. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He barely had time to register the much stronger, colder, wind and a rumbling in the sky, before he came face to face with the haggard form of Walter, and the tired form of Eileen. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Oh Henry, there you are we’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Eileen sighed walking over and grabbing his shoulders tightly, almost like she wanted to hug him but she never committed. Walter stumbled forward, his eyes seemed glazed over, his hair wetter as was Eileens, but he seemed unharmed. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Did you open the door?” she asked and he, still shaken up, just nodded. She looked him over frowning and then led the two of them inside the building, herding them like confused dogs. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“There's nothing back up that way, but i don't know, Walter said that the water should turn some of the lights on in here but…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Well..I'm sorry it..it was supposed to..” Walter’s voice was quiet and uncertain, but Eileen just reached over and touched his forearm. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“No no it's fine i just..i don't really know where we’re supposed to go…” she looked around the room, and her eyes fell back to Henry who didn't have an answer for her and wished he did. That hopelessness threatening his thoughts again. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are you alright Henry?” She asked after a moment of shifting her weight back and forth, and shivering, he assumed her jeans were as wet as his own. He nodded in response and though she frowned she must've figured he didn't have any real answer for her. Walter had wandered over to the filled in hole and touched the sides of it, the faded sigils much as Henry had done in the bar. His eyes still dull and far away as he whispered something to himself, henry wasn't sure if he was trying to ground himself, cast a fucking spell or what, but after closing his eyes, curling his fist and turned back to the other two he stared at them much calmer than before. His voice had lost that childish sort of tone to it, replaced with an equally eerie tone, one not dissimilar to the tone he'd used when Henry had refused to engage with him as a friend. Soft, but there wasn't any warmth behind it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“The basement. We should go down to the basement.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Are you sure?” she frowned, looking a little unnerved by his voice. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“There's nowhere else to go.” he said simply and wandered over to the smaller of the doors, his large, oddly bloodstained, hand resting on the knob. Henry felt like he was being asked to shove his hand back onto a hot stove after just tending to the original burn, but he guessed he didn't have much of a choice. And was too numb to even think to argue. Not like he could, that would mean he would have to admit to something like weakness, and he'd be a long dead corpse before he did that again. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They silently filed into the long downward spiral, there were evidently lights planted into the wall that were now on, though they were dim, Henry tried to remember if they'd been there before but he genuinely couldn't. That long low droning continued, he wasn't sure if the other two were aware of it as they slowly walked down the spiral. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>His head felt dizzy and his stomach nauseous, Henry felt like he kept fading in and out of complete consciousness, like he hadn't slept the night before and was trying to listen to his boss tell him something at work, he was missing patches of walking, the double doors were off in the distance, he swore he only blinked but suddenly he was nearly running into Eileen as she paused right in front of it. Possibly to question if this was the basement or something worth checking out, she glanced back at him but before she could ask he just shook his head. Walter had not paused once in his slow, purposeful stride, Henry even as he was half asleep on his feet, saw his hands balled into a fist. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They persisted onwards, there were less lights along the wall, henry heard the nearly soothing rushing of waters though the pipes in the ceiling. He felt whispers at the sides of his consciousness, his fingers felt numb, a buzzing like a swarm of bees in his head and the feeling of metal on his teeth. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He felt his eyes close against his will, and lost any idea of where he was in space, he felt like he was floating in space, it was dark and cold there, he saw nothing, felt nothing else but cold clammy hands on his arms and shoulders. He felt like he heard a voice in his head, or maybe outside himself, he wasn't sure. It was deep and ancient, cold and calculated, it caressed him in a deep drowning blanket, he felt hands, or a noose, around his throat.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
 <em>He's not telling you the truth. There is blood on his hands. And there will be more Receiver, he is unwilling, a lost Prophet. As are you. But there is no choice. There is no other way</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The cold, wet wall awoke him suddenly as he had run into it, looking around baffled, he'd been almost left behind as Eileen and Walter were a handful of feet ahead of him, and had not seemed to notice whatever had happened to him in that few seconds. His headache grew worse, but that strange sleepy feeling sled his body, he hadn't been this awake since he'd been fighting the infant earlier. His body was chilled to the bone but it had nothing to do with the room around him.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
    He had blood on his hands. Someone did, Henry’s eyes fell to Walter’s balled fists, and in the rising panic in his throat, he forced himself to try and forget it. A dream. Nothing more than that.


</p><p>
  <em>
  <em></em>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Nevermind the voices giving him a new name, a title he didn't understand.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>They reached a door, it was darker than anywhere else on this floor, and Walter hesitated but opened it after a moment, there wasn't much of a choice anyways and Henry woudlve moved him aside to get out of this stairwell. Eileen hadn't said anything else, she looked tired, her shoulders tense and posture ridged. She was tugging on a button on her sweater and clearly chewing her lip, lost in either thought or fear. He wondered how she managed to stay so calm.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The door opened up into a huge room, the stairway spiraled down still and had handrails but the ceiling was high and too dark to make out. Overall the room was slightly brighter with lights that appeared to be street lamps but the darkness of the floors and walls seemed to drain it like a black hole. Filthy reddish floors and a short stone wall separating them from a deep square pit with rounded sections at each of the four corners that also had two large watermills inside it. Water gushed down from an infinite hole in the ceiling, as did something else. Two long meaty, fleshy tubes hung from the ceiling, much like the ones from the Subway station, in that they were notably crude in nature. Or at least Henry couldn't think of anything else they looked like, he almost wondered if he was being juvenile despite how nasty they were. It wasn't a thought he really cared for. Henry didn't like looking at them, Walter was purposefully looking away as if sickened by the sight and EIleen just looked baffled. None of them said anything about it. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
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  <em>
    <em>They wandered off the stairway when it ended and Henry noted a door close to them with the sigil on it. He wasn't interested in that however, as just a few feet away there was a massive hole in the wall. Unblocked and calling to them. Walter had noticed it and strode over there as quickly as possible, Eileen seemed to at least notice there was something there and the three of them were in front of the hole as quickly as possible. </em>
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    <em>“Is this an..an exit? One of those holes” Eileen sounded halfway giddy.</em>
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    <em>“Yes it is. Thank god.” Walter sighed and his shoulders relaxed slightly. Henry felt the same sort of relief himself. Walter didn't wait to approach it, the hole was bigger than any of the other ones before, so much so that Walter could crouch over, though with trouble, and probably force himself through there even as it would be uncomfortable. He did about just about this, bent awkwardly he managed to get in there with minimal crawling. Eileen and Henry watched him go.</em>
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    <em>“Well, let's get the hell out of here.” she stated after a moment, he nodded, taking one good look around the leech infested walls of this disgusting room. He wasn't going to miss it. </em>
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    <em>Eileen took a hold of his hand and they both walked forward into the void. Henry could've sworn he saw the symbol glow as they breached the hole.</em>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Did You See The Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[The words cut open your poor intestines, Can't deny when the inky periods drip from your mailbox and blood flies dip and glide reach down Inside, There's something living in these lines//Because it's messy, yes, this mess is mine, Though mine is messy yours is maybe nine, Look we've had similar stitches, Look we have similar frowns//Violent ends with friends that go (I kissed a few in sticky shoes our cartoon show is broken)]</p>
<p>How many lies can one building hold?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>very glad to get to this set of chapters, we're really close to some more interesting things after these but i really like this section anyways. Thank you to everyone whos been reading and keeping up and leaving comments!!! i adore all the comments and everything else &lt;3 thank you</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sweet smell of garbage and meat met him, as he tried to ignore a dizzy feeling like he'd been thrown in a blender for a whole minute, Henry didn't open his eyes, maybe he'd wake up for real if he just sat there. Back in his apartment, wake up and find out nothing was different. No Joseph, no infant monsters, no angel, no blood on his hands.</p>
<p>Most importantly, no Walter.</p>
<p>But dear god he must have aggravated lady luck somehow, maybe he should bring her flowers or something so she gave him a goddamn break. He never was good with people. </p>
<p>He felt hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him awake, not aggressive but clearly urgent. He waited for a moment deciding if it was real or not and then roused himself from what he realized was a disgusting carpet. He couldn't tell if the dampness was from the prison or the floor. On that appetizing thought he looked up to see Walter who had a hand on his shoulder still, looking relatively concerned.</p>
<p>“Good morning.” Henry said a bit deliriously, and he couldn't quite decipher Walter’s reaction to this statement, but he gently pulled Henry to a sitting position before seeming to realize  he was touching him and let go.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?”</p>
<p>“Uhm...sure.” Henry shrugged looking around to find them in that strange meaty version of their apartment complex, home, but not really. He managed to get to his feet, his clothes smelled awful and if Walter wasn't in a similar boat he likely would have felt worse about it. He glanced around and with a jolt realized he couldn't see Eileen. </p>
<p>“Where's…”</p>
<p>“I don't know. I haven't seen her, I don't know where she woke up…” Walter shook his head and sighed. Henry felt terrible and this new room wasn't helping. He thought he had a hold of her hand, not like it mattered. </p>
<p>He glanced around, they were on the third floor, their rooms lined up, each awful or strange in their own way, 301 was chained up, not with as many locks as Henry’s apartment had been chained with, but it was bolted into the door, there were about six heavy, rusted chains and what seemed to be police tape. Concerned, he turned his head and found his own door, perfectly normal, too normal. A foot outward there was none of the meaty texture or metal bars  on the walls and floor, it was normal. Eileen's door had strange fleshy tubes along the frame and the door itself, it was slimy and dripping a weird fluid, Henry kind of thought they looked like intestines, it certainly didn't look appealing and didn't invite him to walk closer. it pulsated and he looked away. </p>
<p>“Well...we have to, obviously have to find her, I think we’re getting closer.” Walter pushed his hair out of his face only for it to fall back into his eyes, he didn't seem as tense, still on high alert, but obviously less agitated. Henry knew intrinsically of course that it was because he was no longer in that Prison, no longer subject to the horrors of whatever that place had instilled in him as a child. There were memories there, and Henry dreaded to know what those memories entailed. He really hoped he never would, not with those awful, terrible echoing voices of children in his head. He felt the notebook against his thigh in his pocket and dreaded it's threats of knowledge. A bible of censored horrors. He looked at Walter, and noticed the blood that had stained them in the Prison had mysteriously vanished, the rash from the mushrooms in the city returned. </p>
<p>Henry brushed his hair out of his own eyes wondering what their next plan of action was even going to be considering. How had they lost Eileen again? Why was it always him and Walter? He didn't know and he wasn't really a fan of it. As bad as he felt for him in that prison he got the distinct impression that Walter wasn't telling the full truth back in that CIty area, he likely knew more and it really was starting to aggravate him. </p>
<p>“Well...we’re not getting in those doors…” Henry gestured to their apartments and Walter looked at them critically, walking up to 302 and trying the door but it didn't budge. Henry wondered, suspiciously, why Walter had walked to his door first until the far too small rational section of his brain told him that it was the only door worth even checking. His suspicious nature wasn't helpful, but it was all he knew. </p>
<p>“No we’re not, not with the chains, this lock and the...whatever is on the other door. We woke up on the third floor, Henry where did you two...wake up in this, this world?” he turned to look over at him, eyes asking for the missing puzzle piece, not that he had all of them. Not that he had any of them. </p>
<p>“It started when we...we were on the first floor. We didn't fall asleep that time, it just happened. Like something was, ripping the walls up and then…” he gestured to the filthy floor and throbbing flesh that made him ill, it sort of reminded him of those pictures of cancer ridden lungs, not that those pictures ever deterred him from smoking, they just cemented themselves in his memory for the hell of it he guessed. Perhaps that it was so jarring to see as a child. </p>
<p>“Hm..strange. That's not how mine usually…” Walter’s lapse in self control reared its head again and Henry tilted his own as he watched Walter stare at room 302, there was something weird in his expression. Distant yes, that was normal, thinking hard as he could sure, he was trying to piece it together. But this was something else entirely. Some mix of fear, reverence, and something like devotion, it took him a moment but Henry eventually recognized what he thought might have been love in his expression. It was gentle, it was tender in a sense, something Henry felt really uncomfortable to witness. It wasn't just the fact that Walter was looking at his room, looking at any room really with that sort of emotion; in his bitterness he hated to see that expression, on couples in the park, a mother to her infant, on old friends, on anyone who dared have someone when he didn't. Intrinsically it was bizarre to see Walter stare at a room like this, but Henry couldn't help resent him a little more for having the feeling at all. Or maybe he pitied him, somehow. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. And Henry now wondered if he was suddenly privy to the reason Walter had been staring into his peephole, though all that seemed a million years ago now. </p>
<p>“What if it's spread...no..i couldn't have...could it?” Walter’s murmuring continued, “i thought i'd left...can't i leave?” </p>
<p>Henry waited for him to lower his gaze from the door and stare out at the ominous clean patch around it, how just a foot outward in every direction it was just as it should be, the same worn tile and dirty but unimpressive walls, fading into bleeding walls and metal floors. Walter vaguely looked back up and Henry and finally realized he was still there. </p>
<p>“..sorry. I..i don't know what..” Walter began, as he seemed to realize that Henry was expectant and had seen the strange sort of display in its entirety. </p>
<p>“Is there something you need in there.” Henry was flat with him, short really, and could see that look on Walter’s face, like he was being rejected or preparing to be attacked again. Henry didn't know why he'd felt so opposed to something that didn't make sense to him but wasn't hurting anything either. He was cold, he didn't like this and maybe it was the anxiety from the Prison, the idea that Walter had lied to him, the fear of the unknown coming from somewhere he should know like the back of his hand, his own bitterness, or some melting pot of all of them. </p>
<p>“No. no nothing i need really i just…” Walter sighed deeply he didn't seem to be able to explain himself, Henry wished he could blame him and be sort of frustrated with him, but he wasn't, and couldn’t. Not really anyways. </p>
<p>“I can't really explain Henry. It's not something that’ll make sense to you, and i don't think it's necessary.” Walter shook his head, his expression melding into something strangely blank. A mask. Henry in his hypocrisy was sort of aggravated by this. He let it be, his expression likely looked dismissive enough, Walter didn't seem to like this and there was the wall between them. A separation, a severance, a sheet of frozen glass distorting them to one another. Unfortunate. But not necessary to care about. </p>
<p>“Fine. there's nothing in there though.” Henry nodded and turned away from his door, Walter didn't answer but followed him as their footsteps lightly made hollow taps against the metal below them. </p>
<p>Henry still couldn't make up his mind about Walter. God knew he wanted to. But the pendulum swung back into distrust, and it might change again. Henry was someone who couldn't understand people and he didn't know exactly why it aggravated him so much that Walter was adverse to being known, Henry wasn't known; but the complicated dance of dissimulation that both of them were clearly engaging in was not nearly as dissimilar as Henry would have liked. He hated the idea. Whatever sentimentality Walter held for his room he either would never know, or would find out against his will. </p>
<p>“Where are we going to go?” Walter asked eventually as Henry approached the double doors, his hand graced the door and then wondered what they were going to do. He hadn't thought about it really. </p>
<p>“Well I guess we can find...find Mr. Sunderland. I don't know what else to do really. Maybe he has the key to...one of the doors or something. “ Henry shrugged, wondering why he kept trying to appeal to Sunderland in the hopes that he would help him. When had he ever helped anyone? Then again he was the only relatively nice adult who might. Yes Henry was an adult, but a different flavor of adult, Frank had been around, he knew things, allegedly at least, and thus maybe there was some value in his insight. Besides that he was scared and didn't know what else to do. Frank wasn't that blind yet, he couldn't see a reason for him to be that willfully ignorant. </p>
<p>“Well it isn't a bad idea. I don't know that he’ll know anything but I don't think it could hurt.” Walter's voice answered, and Henry wondered if he heard something like sarcasm there or if he was imagining it, he couldn't be sure and he didn't want to be really, the idea was enough to feed his growing resentment, callousness. </p>
<p>“Well. we might find someone at least.” Henry stated as he turned the handle, as much as adding another person wouldn't help the situation in the slightest he couldn't care about that now.</p>
<p>Henry hated the apartment's new décor. Truly it was far worse than tacky or ancient, he almost missed the peeling wallpaper and patchy carpet that felt like it had been flattened, the texture of moldy cardboard, that Frank swore was shampooed ‘not that long ago’ though the only work Henry had ever seen him do as far as cleaning was sweeping the third floor, whose carpet had been mostly torn up by age. Henry wondered why he spent so much time on that third floor, maybe it was that it was cleaner than the other floors, he didn't know, and he guessed it didn't matter now. Not with fleshy walls, and the weird banging noises and rhythmic whispering surrounding them. All of that and a body. </p>
<p>The caged corpse was no longer hanging in the room, instead an even larger body was tied to the ceiling. She was nude and decaying, slime drenched locks of hair that couldn't decide if it was black or blonde, she was fat and tethered to the ceiling with hooks in her skin, bone protruding from rotting flesh, she appeared pregnant, her swollen belly vaguely translucent and the light from the ceiling shining through it showing a dark fetal shadow. Henry couldn't see her face, drool slipping from between strands of disgusting hair, blood dripping from somewhere lower. He couldn't see much but her chest, belly and hair but he figured anything below that was the same if not worse. He grimaced at the hooks in her flesh, tugging her skin upwards like a meathook, or rather what he thought meat on a meathook would look like. The low droning from other areas present but almost remixed in a sense, it was particular to this building, creaking and haunted, it sounded like people were crying, two voices stuck out to him. A soft higher pitched voice that seemed close like this corpse suspended in midair was lightly moaning in pain, whimpering and gasping like they were being stung and were trying to be quiet. The other voice was deeper, though not much, and clearly heartbroken. They were crying mumbling words as their voice broke and cracked several times, but it was far away and getting quieter as it wandered away. </p>
<p>Just as he'd registered this he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, he glanced back and saw Walter staring up at the corpse. He was scared. Regret, hurt and more reverence in his gaze, he visibly shuddered, Henry couldn't blame him this time, no context was needed for this thing to be inherently disturbing. He didn't know why Walter always had such bizarre expressions in reaction to things but he was reacting in a negative way so he guessed it was close enough. Neither of them commented on the corpse or the crying, he guessed neither needed an explanation. </p>
<p>They silently began walking down the stairs, Henry swore he could hear the snarling of those dogs or the yelping of apes but it was far off, further than the crying person in the corridors, the shifting ambiance of the room was becoming more and more sinister as they descended. Henry felt the gun in his pocket with every step he took, and he desperately wished he had something else with him to feel safe, though Walter had somehow lost his weapon, it would be better to have something that wouldn't run out of ammunition. At least he had another person, even though he really didn't feel very fond of Walter. </p>
<p>The second he stepped foot on the second floor he noticed a huge, strange cage that appeared to be melded into the door where the handles were supposed to be, it was red and rusted, stained, and the only thing inside it was a padlock and a note of sorts. Henry walked closer and reached in to pull out the note, noting the strange clay hand centered in the middle of the cage grasping the paper very lightly in it's clenched fist, realizing very quickly this was likely a puzzle of some kind, which only dampened his mood instead of improving it. He glanced back at Walter who seemed to have come to the same conclusion about the note and looked somewhat displeased. Slightly furrowed brow, that only made his slight wrinkles more prominent but it wasn't unattractive. This however was stupid thought, and he was supposed to be put off and scared of Walter right now. Whatever. Move past it. </p>
<p>“What’s it say? I..this place, i can't read the words on the, the poems..” Walter asked him after a moment, his voice sounded weary, and Henry couldn't blame him as confusing as that statement was. Blood from what Henry had realized was predictably between the woman's’ legs, dripping down the railing behind them, was slightly distracting and something Walter was clearly keeping his back to on purpose. Henry took a deep breath and frowned at the paper to read it, the handwriting was neat and slanted but still printed instead of cursive, he read it aloud to Walter. </p>
<p>
  <em>Can you hear a little bird? <br/>Let him out his cage? <br/>A Mockingbird you must be<br/>Wiser now you seek the truth<br/>My wisdom i impart on you<br/>I hope it cloaks you well<br/>If i let you wander blind<br/>God would smite me in my cell</em>
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  <em>Let not out the Tanger<br/>War and Rage he brings<br/>Bloodshed on your shoulders<br/>Lock him far away</em>
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  <em>Coaxing out Peacock<br/>A tired sad affair<br/>His pride and preen refuse him<br/>Tis wise leave him mourn </em>
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  <em>Freedom lies in Robin<br/>Her sweet song she doth sing<br/>Spring and love surround her<br/>Her path will light your feet</em>
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  <em>I know you hear a little bird<br/>One of three you’ll free<br/>Choose wisely little mockingbird<br/>Or at your grave HE weeps</em>
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<p>“Birds...birds. Hmm” Walter mumbled as he thought about it, “i can't imagine what that means, do birds mean..anything to you?”</p>
<p>“I dunno. It mentioned god and birds but it doesn't make much sense to me. My...someone once told me birds sing praise to God, that's how they worship him. And we should try to be like birds. But I don't know about all that.” Henry shrugged realizing that tangent wasn't necessary and in fact was kind of weird. Walter proved that as he gave him a sideways glance, even as his face remained neutral, but what he took issue with when he spoke threw Henry off guard. </p>
<p>“Him?” His voice sounded genuinely incredulous and this one word said quite a lot even though Henry didn't understand it. Like a poem written in a language forign to him. </p>
<p>“Well...yeah.” Henry shrugged and didn't elaborate because he genuinely didn't know how to, that, and he didn't really think it best to be having theological discussions with Walter when their apartment had rotted away to resemble the set of one of those heavy metal music videos he’d see on TV occasionally. “Uhm..anyways...i don't think the birds mean much. I don't know anything about birds.”</p>
<p>“Right. Well. i don't either i just...i suppose we’ll have to just figure something out. It..must have something to do with a key, to unlock that door but…”</p>
<p>“Nothing to do but move forward i guess.” Henry shrugged, folding over the paper and slipping it into his pocket and Walter seemed to agree with that statement. Henry tried to think over the words, it warned of letting a certain someone out and Henry knew that it could mean anything but somehow that it was very close, very specific, he had wondered if the poem from before had alluded to anything but very fleetingly, this however struck him harder, even though it was more vague. Perhaps that it was vague that intrigued him more, or the fact that it was so close. Just down stairs from his room. ‘War and rage’ stuck out to him. He shuddered to think of the supposed death this could bring. Then again he wasn't sure how afraid of death he even was anymore. </p>
<p>Onward was the only direction, the other door on this floor was locked tight, though both him and Walter tried to force it. They continued downstairs, Henry swore the crying voice in the halls was getting louder, or maybe closer or more hysterical, it was hard to tell. As they rounded the corner and made it to the bottom floor he heard the creaking of metal and looked up to see the woman take a deep shuddering breath, and then she stopped breathing and crying. </p>
<p>“I suppose she...she's gone.” Walter said softly Henry looked over at his face and found that it was sorrowful, he felt the melancholy in the room, an icy sort of feeling like he'd doused his insides in cold water. </p>
<p>“Yeah. looks like it.” Henry’s eyes glanced around the rest of the room, it wasn't much different to when him and Eileen had been there, except for the fact that the hole was missing. Not filled in, just gone completely. He didn't know what to think of that and tried to direct his attention elsewhere. All he saw of interest was the puddle of thick greasy blood on the floor that had originated from the woman. That, and the mailboxes, he wasn't sure what it was, they just had a strange allure about them that he couldn't seem to place. He wandered closer, and both him and Walter seemed to notice something off about them. </p>
<p>“I might have missed it, so forgive me, but I don't think these apartments have a room 312…”</p>
<p>“No they don't. The third floor doesn't even have another side, just 301 to 304. There isn't a 212 or 112 either.” Henry shook head as he looked at the inexplicable extra row of mailboxes above the third floor boxes, most of them didn't have numbers, he also noted a 208, another number whose corresponding room didn't exist and he noted that it appeared to be drenched in blood, inside and out, and rattled slightly. Him and Walter gave each other a look and decided not to open it. Something about 312 however compelled him to look inside, an idea that wasn't great, but he had the impression that it was important somehow. </p>
<p>He reached up to try and open the door to 312’s mailbox to find that inside were several things. Two Letters, a newspaper clipping, a cassette tape, and what appeared to be several teeth of an animal or some kind in a small plastic sandwich bag. He was starting to wish he had a bag or some kind to hold all this stuff, his pockets would get full at some point. Then again if he ever got back home he'd have plenty of things to stick in his scrapbook. </p>
<p>“What's all this?” Walter tilted his head looking at the collection of objects in his hands. They felt like clues, hints of some kind, and Henry suspected Walter knew that. </p>
<p>“Well, we have...these letters.” Henry looked them over, but one of them, frustratingly, was completely blocked out, everything in a rather lengthy letter redacted besides ‘i'm sorry’ in the middle of the page. Henry had seen some poetry sort of like this, but he doubted it was meant to be poetry, or if it was then it was really pretentious. He handed this to Walter after looking it over, not necessarily trusting him not to hide something. He also handed him the teeth as well, he didn't have any reason to hold onto them. The second letter has the same handwriting as the first, loopy and pretty cursive, but a lot of this one was redacted as well, the only things left was the beginning which started <em>‘my dearest *****’</em>  and an addendum that had to have been scrawled after the initial letter, the handwriting was messier and shaky. <em>I'm going out in a blaze of glory, Take me now but know the truth.</em> Henry was pretty sure this was lyrics of some sort but he didn't remember the song, or rather who it was by. Walter looked expectant and Henry didn't see any reason not to hand him this letter as well. Maybe he'd recognize the song, though somehow he doubted Walter was well versed in music. </p>
<p>While Walter pursued the less than interesting letters, Henry turned over the cassette tape in his hand, in similar but still distinct small, lowercase cursive letters was  <em>i love you, my everything.</em> it despite this message being romantic, it felt heavy, like there was a weight to the cheap plastic that he couldn't define. Something told him the letters’ author and whoever had made this cassette were different but possibly connected. There wasn't much he could do with it now though, so he turned his attention to the newspaper. A Lot of which was blacked out, but not as much. </p>
<p>
  <em>On the 18th of this month, ***** and ****** Locane both age * were found murdered in the ***** near the **** *****, their bodies mutilated. It is so far unknown if this incident is related to…</em>
</p>
<p>Most everything else was redacted except for a date, 1987, though the rest of the date was also expunged. Henry didn't like how low that number that was redacted was, it sounded like children had been murdered, something he still wasn't going to be used to regardless of the situation. He turned it around and saw a note written in red marker on the back in the same handwriting as the cassette tape.</p>
<p>
  <em>Take your sins back. I have my own. I'm sorry.</em>
</p>
<p>He had no idea what to make of all of this. Unlike before in the water prison, he felt he had learned something he was supposed to know, something being put in front of him deliberately by someone pulling strings outside of his realm of control of understanding. He was supposed to know these things, they provided him an answer to a question he had yet to ask, a question he still did not know he was supposed to ask. There was closure in most of these, and also an accusation. </p>
<p>“These almost seem like poems..” Walter said, snapping Henry out of his horrified existentialism. He glanced at the other man and suddenly had the idea that Walter needed to see the newspaper. As with every other whim, there wasn't a choice but to listen</p>
<p>“Hm. does this..mean anything to you?” he handed it to Walter who took it with intrigue, only for his face to lose any color it still had the second he was done reading it. He stared dumbfounded, and horrified by the information presented, when he turned it around he nearly jumped back in shock and disgust. Like he was going to vomit in response to this. Henry stared at him trying to gauge what this meant, what he could glean from Walter’s reactions. </p>
<p>“I see.” Walter's voice was shaky, like he was moments away from either crying or panicking, Henry saw guilt in his expression, and then he remembered what Richard had said, back in the city eyes bulging in righteous mania. “ <em>“Does a fire sound familiar? How about a drowning? Or Toluca lake? Or two missing kids? Yeah that's right motherfucker, i know about you.”</em> He wondered if these were the two missing kids, or rather murdered kids, he wondered what Walter had to do with this. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, an anger, a fear, something irrational and vile in his throat like he remembered Walter cowering in the Water Prison and somehow he wondered if he deserved it.</p>
<p>“W..well i don't think...i don't think this had anything to do with opening the door…”Walter cleared his throat, and his wide, watering eyes regained some semblance of composure though they left the fear and anguish there. Henry had a hard time feeling sorry for him, and an even harder time not doing so, the grappling inside him left him detached from the situation until he saw Walter attempt to approach him and he flinched away, unintentionally glaring.</p>
<p>“You do know something about that newspaper don't you…” he stared him dead in the face, as painful as that was, and Walter vacillated between opening his mouth to answer and anxiously also stepping back to get away from him. There was something he wasn't saying, something he didn't want to say, yet he looked almost scared to leave Henry’s accusation unanswered. Henry didn't want to stand here and wait for him to make up his mind, simply filing away that he wasn't being truthful, explicitly unwilling to tell the truth.</p>
<p>“Don't tell me then.” Henry shrugged and took the newspaper back from him, Walter reached out as it was pulled away as if to ask him not to take it, but Henry didn't heed his plea. He wasn't going to hide whatever this was, if there was anything else he could find out about this, he would. There was nothing unbiased in other people’s retellings or lack thereof, Henry didn't know why he bothered thinking there ever would be. </p>
<p>“Henry..”</p>
<p>“Lets just find Mr. Sunderland.” He interrupted quietly, his back to the other man as it often was, he headed towards 105, hopefully to find their superintendent or Eileen, or another hole, anything at this point. Walter said nothing else, understanding at least that his lying and omissions were not welcome, understanding again their partnership was limited. if everything went well they'd be separated soon. His hand on the newly rusted handle, and his heart set on nothing but the next objective, Henry remembered again Walter's dejected realization that they weren't friends, no, Henry supposed to himself, they weren't. He guessed they never would be. </p>
<p>The next room, as could be expected, did not hold the answers, just more questions.</p>
<p>A cage of iron bars blocked the way forward, just ahead of the Super’s room, it appeared as though they had the capacity to open, much like a courtyard gate or something similar, but it was locked up tight. No visible keyhole, only five strange boxes embedded into the gate, looking like small shadow boxes meant to hold one object at a time, taped to the middle was another note, written a gross looking reddish brown color, and on the floor in front of them was a very damaged magazine. Henry was more concerned with the note, after his initial frustration of another roadblock, and very gingerly took it from its place, wondering if he could compile an entire book of all the shit he’d found so far. Glanced over at Walter and despite his aggravation towards him he doubted leaving him in the dark was going to help. It was best to have another mind here, for his sake, for Eileen sake, and hell, he didn't exactly want Walter to die. He showed the other man the paper and began to read it, while Walter listened, wearily. </p>
<p>
  <em>The lock requires sacrifice<br/>Of neighbors you doth scorn<br/>Brethren you look down upon<br/>Pain you do rejoice</em>
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<p>
  <em>He's seen the signs, he's heard the tales<br/>He feels flames spark too soon<br/>A symbol of his loyalty <br/>You'd steal from inside the womb</em>
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  <em>The weapon in his fingers<br/>Not to his soul he did attach<br/>Tis the calm of your facade<br/>He drinks o’er bloodstained glass</em>
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  <em>Glass jewelry flashes in your eyes<br/>Framing cold dark gaze<br/>The locks hide a gift from mother<br/>Whose soul a winding maze</em>
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  <em>His shadow in your mirror<br/>A body you won't save<br/>A scrap o’ unholy paper <br/>To repay sins he gave</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And to him dear anxious sinner<br/>Unwilling gift you owe<br/>A memory of a lie he spoke<br/>Of Dear Child buried long ago</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Desecrate their safety, exacerbate their pain<br/>Monster that you are, i expect you'd do again</em>
</p>
<p>“Two at the same time then…” Walter sighed, he seemed just as confused by this one than he had been of the bird poem, Henry couldn't blame him but this one seemed more vitriolistic. There was malice here, crime and pain and mockery. He didn't like the tone it took with him. </p>
<p>"I guess at least...we have something to do." Henry shrugged, glancing down and wondering what significance this magazine held. He barely had the brain power to really understand what the poem was saying even as it was in plain english, much less interpret it into anything coherent. He guessed they needed to do something with these strange shadow boxes, but what exactly was lost on him. Walter gestured at the paper and he handed it off without thinking before he realized something.</p>
<p>“I thought you couldn't read those?”</p>
<p>“Well, i can't. Not initially. I...i don't know once you read them i just...can.” Walter shrugged looking apologetically confused himself, Henry regarded this with suspicion, even if there wasn't any reason for him to lie he didn't trust what Walter said. There didn't need to be a reason, no one else ever needed a good reason to lie.</p>
<p>“That's strange…” Henry wasn't sure how much he believed of that, but it wasn't completely unreasonable given the situation. If a gaping hole could disappear then he guessed Walter could be unable to understand a note that hadn't been proofread first. </p>
<p>“Yes. but not as strange as this note...it's worse than the other one really.” Walter shook his head and Henry couldn't help but privately agree. “I feel like..it's trying to talk directly to someone...but i don't know who…”</p>
<p>“It must be one of us, right?” Henry suggested absently and Walter frowned, though in all fairness it wasn't like the speaker was very kind in talking to them. That said, who the hell else could it be talking to, afterall, they'd found it. All these things had a purpose.</p>
<p>Or did they? He forced his face in a neutral expression, wondering why he had such a thought. None of this seemed anything but completely nonsensical and painful, a game of sorts. Yet he had the deep seated idea that this was here on purpose. They were meant to see this, and they needed to remember these things to move forward. </p>
<p>He'd had these feelings before. These premonitions of a fact he couldn't have reasonably known, of something he shouldn't understand, of things he shouldn't be seeing. Memories asked to be brought to the surface, memories of children in fires, of lakes full of the damned, of blood soaked arms and churches built on sin and more importantly, of things in shadows he couldn't explain outside the vague mythology of spirits or demons. He remembered all the times he'd had one of these premonitions, and all the times he'd been right both as a child and an adult. He remmbered the ways he'd been right about people, people who had still inevitable hurt him. He remembered being right about that teacher, that pastor, that neighbor he'd had as a child. He remembered the basement.</p>
<p>“Henry..?” Walter's voice as it had before, awoke him from a spiraling of dissociation, stopping him from unlocking memories he wasn't supposed to still have. Memories he pretended weren't there. His slightly shorter breathing wasn't productive, he didn't think he could deal with that now. Just forget about it. Ignore. Repress. </p>
<p>“Well we-we can't go this way…” Henry took a deep breath and turned and looked down at the magazine on the floor, bending over to pick it up. It was slightly damp and elicited an awful smell, Walter regarded it with vague disgust but he didn't seem to have completely moved past Henry’s strange pause. He elected to ignore this, looking over what might have been some sort of swimsuit magazine, not that this made him feel any better to be holding. </p>
<p>He flipped it open to the first dog eared page and recoiled slightly, a woman was assembled, cut out of other magazines, several which were much more risque given the bare breasts as well as other things. Her face was not that of a model but of a woman that he was sure he recognized, she had a nurses’ cap on, and bright ginger hair. A dark black marker, scribbled in messy handwriting as though someone was using their non-dominant hand, all around her as her marionette body with disproportionate breasts and heels posed it something that was supposed to be sexy but mostly looked broken. <em>I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I'VE SENT YOU SO MANY LETTERS WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER ME</em> all around her. He didn't like looking at her and turned to the next marred page, now finding a worse image. Likely what was meant to be the same woman, but her body dismembered and red paint splattered on the page like a child having a fit, her head detached and eyes crossed out, in the same huge unsteady letters, <em> HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? I LOVED YOU, YOUR MAILBOX IS FULL OF MY LOVE BUT YOU WANT HIM? WHORE</em> .</p>
<p>That was enough of that. Henry tossed it off to the side, if it was important, he didn't care. A feeling reminiscent of looking into the Prison windows, filthy, predatory, and yet he could feel the same eyes on himself, it was painful. His skin was crawling with filth. He heard voices whispering in the back of his mind, creeping into his brain like a poisoned mold. He wasn't a fan of these sudden swings in illness, pain suddenly flaring in the pit of his stomach like it was on fire and his head like he had been hit. , he only barely was able to keep this to himself, whatever he felt he couldn't let Walter or even this place he was vulnerable. Walter looked like he wanted to ask but Henry interrupted before he could. </p>
<p>“I wanna get out of here.” Henry said blandly, Walter had seemed fearful of his reaction to the magazine and simply nodded, folding the paper in his pocket and turning back to the other door. Henry followed, he needed out of this room now. </p>
<p>There wasn't any breath of relief in this room, but it was less oppressive, he had to avoid slipping in the puddle of blood on the floor as he was so distracted from a strange pull from every side of the room that he’d barely noticed it. He felt delirious and sort of wandered back over to the mailboxes as the loudest voices in his subconscious told him to do so. He couldn't figure out why, the mailboxes seemed empty anyways. Well all except one of them, as when he walked  little to the side so Walter could stand close to him, 106’s door swung open violently like someone was trying to escape from inside of it. A good several dozen letters fell out of it and onto the floor, even more letters stuffed in there by, some of them very crumpled and old like they'd been three for quite some time. Henry wasn't sure what to do with this, he almost wanted to laugh. </p>
<p>“Oh...these..” Walter, who had bent over to pick one of them up, scowled in disgust upon reading what was on it, whatever it was Henry couldn't care,”...well, someone's affections have gone unrequited it seems.”</p>
<p>“Gross.” Henry assumed some of these notes were of a sexual nature, if only based on Walter tossing it aside in revulsion. Whatever he felt about Walter, he didn't seem like a sexual degenerate of any kind. He assumed the letters had something to do with the person who had made that college in the magazine, he still didn't know who lived in 106, but he could presume it was a woman based just on context clues and frankly felt bad for her. Looking in the pile of obsessive love notes, he noticed how many of them seemed weirdly discolored and then he noticed something shiny in with all the white. </p>
<p>“Oh, a key…” Henry reached over and picked it up,but his fingers no sooner graced the metal than he felt a sudden sharp pain in his skull, harder than if he'd been hit with a shovel. overwhelming him. collapsing to his knees and grabbing his head as he tried to compose himself, he felt a ringing in his ears and in his disoriented state he swore he heard sirens or maybe the rattling of a boiler. He couldn't breathe. </p>
<p>“Are you alright? Henry? Henry please wake up.” he felt the presence of a hand near his shoulder and he flinched as the ache in his head ebbed and flowed like the rising and falling tide. His vision was spotty and he swore he could hear a voice calling out for him, echoing in a headspace of someone desperate to get their message out, begging for some sort of radio to hear them. He didn't understand what was being asked of him.</p>
<p>“C'mon Henry…” Walter held him by the shoulders and almost effortlessly lifted him to a standing position, and guided him somewhere, Henry wasn't sure considering he felt dizzier and more confused as the seconds passed. A black vortex in his vision that clouded the room. He felt like he was looking at a different room, with a blanket over his eyes, his body still in South Ashfield Heights’ lobby, but his senses trying to escape somewhere else. He felt like he was slipping off somewhere far away, a dream, a cloud somewhere. Familiar smells and ambient sounds clouded out reality. He wasn't aware of his body or what was happening and could only barely hear the softly frantic tone of someone who might've been Walter. </p>
<p>“Henry, stay awake. Please, please don't go.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Sour Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Who am I, what and why, 'Cause all I have left is my memories of yesterday//Oh these sour times,  'Cause nobody loves me, it's true]</p>
<p>strange visions and deeper secrets are uncovered if only you could understand it</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>good lord this took some time but! here we are! i had to do alot of editing and moving shit around i still apologize for how goddamn long this is. even still! thank you for sticking with me and thank you so much for comments and the views! im really happy people are enjoying it so much. stay warm &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sirens didn't let up for a good few minutes. A feeling under his skin like sandpaper against his teeth, chewing tinfoil, the sensation in his arms and legs like the slicing of skin when he would be intentionally careless with his boxcutter at work. He felt a cold layer of dust on him, and felt the breeze of snowfall. He realized his eyes were open, and he was staring up at a cold, cruel sky. A sky that made no sense to him, a purple grey, the sirens had stopped but he swore he could hear a ringing like a heavily muffled school bell run through a broken VCR giving it an oddly grainy quality. He pushed himself off of the unforgiving concrete and looked around. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He'd never been here before, that much he could be sure of. This elementary school was unfamiliar to him, the name distorted when he tried to look at it, not that he had any reason to care one way or another. He wasn't going inside that was for sure. He didn't know why exactly but he felt something very dark about the place. Sinister. </p>
<p>He turned away, he noticed a broken looking pocket radio off to the side, it seemed to be the source of the strange bell noise, plastic pieces falling off of it onto the pavement like it had been smashed under someone's foot or with a weapon of some sort. He turned away from it, something about the sound it made was unnerving, like it warned of something but he didn't know what exactly. Like a venomous snake with bright colors or a cat hissing in defence, there was danger somewhere, he was sure of it. Taking it with would only attract attention. </p>
<p>He turned walking away from the school, the droning of the radio became quieter as he left it behind, the snow in the air hit the ground and immediately was gone, like it was the illusion of a snowflake on the ground, though there was this dusting of that same snow on his shoulders and hair like he was the only thing that was real here. Empty storefronts boarded up like they'd been abandoned for years, somehow he didn't think they'd had been, there was something off about it, about everything. Henry wasn't thinking, just acting on base instinct. If he had been thinking, he was sure he could pinpoint why they were wrong; this would provide little comfort against his newfound danger.</p>
<p>He reached an intersection before he heard the deep guttural chuckling that dissolved into loud hysterical high pitched jeering, he glanced behind him to see his pursuer, the many eyed lacerated creature from his drawings, and this time Walter wasn't here to kill it. It began sprinting forward and he panicked, taking off in a random direction as fast as he could. He could hear it's feet against the pavement as it didn't let up even as he passed streets and cars and more buildings than he bothered to count. He didn't look behind him even as he heard the footsteps getting quieter as he ran. Light fast steps on scuffed and damaged shoes, on lungs both on fire and cold as the temperature dove, easy to feel even despite the friction of momentum burning up his limbs. </p>
<p>He eventually slowed, panting heavily and desperate for a clue on where the hell he was. He had stopped in front of a church and even in desperation the open doors begging him to take shelter there were warning him, a sign for things to come, and he knew so much better than to enter a church for sanctuary. Violence and fear were never solved in a home built on such foundations. </p>
<p>He ignored it as best as he could ignore the beckons from an unseen hand, and pressed forwards, the cold of the false snow sunk deep into his bones like a pain he didn't remember eliciting, a deep cold of sadness, a memory that wasn't his own. The road was leading him somewhere and he knew only that he couldn't disobey. </p>
<p>The road opened to a wide bridge, the fog seemed heavier here and though he didn't want to, he had no choice but to stumble ahead, the two other roads were blocked off, nothing climbable, it was like the whole street had crumbled away from reality, not unlike looking over the edges of the distorted Ashfield, but instead of blackness it was the same off grey, light purple of the sky. He walked to the bridge, the temperature dropped lower and lower, til he became aware of his shivering and the wind that smelled of burning metal and wood. The fog was thick enough to choke on, like breathing in cigarette smoke filling a rusty car, so much so he swore he could smell it. The bridge before him distorted, and he felt lightheaded. </p>
<p>The world went dark.</p>
<p>The tunnel. The words scrawled on it were replaced with a language he did not understand, it looked like english but the letters kept shifting and changing. Broken glass now littered the ground and the choking fog was gone though he could still smell cigarettes and now exhaust from cars that needed work but would never get it unless they fell apart on the street. He knew what was on the other side of this tunnel and he didn't want to see it, never again, but he was being pressed forward. Out of the tunnel onto the streets, where even the ally from before was blocked off to him, bricked up to let him know he couldn't run away. Leaving the only option a street he'd trudged home from so many times it was automatic. That bright green street sign said Salvador Street, and he counted the dilapidated houses, most were missing the actual mailboxes or addresses’ nailed to some part of the door, but he still knew which were which anyways. He stopped in front of 612, his legs moved without his permission, walking up the tilted concrete to a home burdened by a vile hatred that one could almost see in how the damn thing was constructed. </p>
<p>The door was partially off of it's hinges, the delicate way he opened it still emitted a loud creak, shattering the muffled silence, like the house was an isolation chamber, no sounds went in, none came out, and the few that were made inside were stifled quickly. It held its breath. It looked like his house but not quite, it was silent, and that was wrong. The furniture was all the way he remembered, the TV old, a fist having been put through it and several sections of drywall, every hole leaked a foul black sludge and the ceiling festered with mold. The hallway was open and invited him, so he walked towards it. The door closed behind him as he entered that strange narrow hallway but from the opposite side as before , his bedroom door facing him, wood splitting and not just from places were it had been subjected to outbursts of rage, the doors on all sides locked behind the metal bars, even the bathroom closed off this time, but he was certain he could hear the soft crying and what he knew to be the running water that normally downed out the sound, his arms stung from the memory of pastimes of self destruction, but it wasn't his most pressing issue at the moment. The door behind him had closed but not rechained itself. There was no fighting of screaming as there should be, like the other times, and his panicked mind did nothing to help this. They weren't home, but they would be eventually. He heard sudden, quiet singing, like it had been going on for some time but he just hadn't noticed before, voices of children rising up from somewhere below him and he recognized the song but didn't dare put a name to it, knowing it would only trigger a memory he didn't want to be having, there was no choice in that however as he <em>knew</em> the song and knew what he was remembering, the memory etched into every active one of his five senses, a memory in every section of his body so he’d never forget. A warm damp sensation, the tacky feeling of blood, bruises, and god if he could only stop remembering. He heard it behind him, that opening of a door whose hinges creaked in such a specific way it was as part of him as a favorite song or the sound of his own footsteps, he turned away from the door to the living room to see the old basement door, displaced into nothingness, it was open and he caught a glimpse of the stairs that had once nearly broken his arm, and the children grew louder in their singing. He wanted to stay far away but he felt the room grow smaller and tighter and he couldn't breath but didn't know if that was because he was looking at a place he never wanted to see again or if he was being robbed of precious air by a world that so badly wanted him to suffer. All the while children belted their song with ravenous enthusiasm with joy known only to the unburdened. He walked forward as he heard them vocalize with such passion, and he prayed to the god whose praise they sung that he wouldn't fall down the stairs again. As the stairs creaked under him, slowly and surely that little bit of hell revealed itself to him. Dusty, cramped and it smelled like lumber, the odd seemingly universal scent of the elderly, and candle smoke, and he wanted to puke. He couldn't really see, but the chair was there, as was the rope, the bible, a dark awful figure he swore he could see out of the corner of his eye. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribs, and as he turned on his heel to run back upstairs, he found the door locked and barricaded. Not to keep anything out, but to trap something in. and he knew who it was. The sirens went off again, this one warbling oddly, and weakly, but all he could care about was panicking and trying to wrench the door open, seeing the shadow sneak up behind him while his head throbbed, the sirens barely drowned out by the singing. </p>
<p>
  <em>Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail, And mortal life shall cease, I shall possess within the veil, A life of joy and peace.</em>
</p>
<p>Jerking violently only knowing he hit something soft and was fearful the shadow was closer than it was supposed to be, his eyes opened and all he saw was now the rotting ceiling of his apartment complex. He writhed and squirmed away panicked from wherever he was stuck only to feel hands on his shoulders and a voice trying to soothe him, he felt a leg on the other side of him and then realized a person was there.</p>
<p>“Henry, Henry it's okay, it's just me and you, please…” the voice, soft but concerned, light, calming and masculine, he knew this voice, this person. Walter, of course, it was Walter and he was so happy to hear someone he knew he might have cried or just become numb from all his conflicting emotions. He looked down at himself to try and rationalize who or where he was at this point. </p>
<p>He was still dusted in snow like a powdered doughnut that had been thrown in the street. Unappealing but unapologetically real. He didn't know if that was good, likely it wasn't. But he wasn't injured, he was fine, and he didn't know why he felt like he should be, but he wasn't. </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Walter's voice interrupted his realization and he slowly turned to face him, they were on the stairs, Walter had sat next to him on the stairs, and his hands hovered over Henry’s shoulders like he'd been holding them and taken them away, whatever had happened, he had kept Henry safe. He looked terrified, sure, but they were both safe and he was as calm as he seemed to be able to be. Henry felt inexplicably warm and yet somewhat uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“...i dunno...what..what happened…” Henry murmured softly, his voice barely wanted to leave his throat, he could still hear the broken radio and the children singing. He really wanted to puke. </p>
<p>“You just...passed out, i couldn't get you to wake up, you were so cold…” Walter explained anxiously, like he really wanted to ask questions but knew to wait. He wrung his hands and popped a few knuckles, trying to find something to do with them while speaking. </p>
<p>“...yeah...i woke up somewhere strange...some kind of...snowy town. There were craters and holes everywhere, and a monster...that same one from the alley. And then i found this..a tunnel again…” Henry swallowed and shook his head, he decided not to mention the rest of the dream or whatever the hell it was. Not even that Walter didn't need to know but rather that he didn't want to explain it. Walter looked terrified enough already. </p>
<p>“A town...god. Henry was it…was it in Silent Hill?” he said in an almost whispering tone, Henry frowned and tried to think, that sounded right but how could he know that? He couldn't know that. </p>
<p>“I...i don't know, maybe?” he shrugged and this seemed only to trouble Walter more, “there was a..a school and a church, a long bridge...but i didn't see any signs or anything. It was snowing, smelled weird…”</p>
<p>“Yeah...that sounds like...but why snow..” Walter frowned and glanced over at the wall for a moment trying to piece it together, but he shook his head before any real conclusion was drawn, and angled his body closer to Henry’s, his hand tentative in it's reach for his shoulder, Henry didn't have the capacity to say yes or no so it merely lingered there. “Henry this isn't good, i...was there anything else you saw? Anything more...more personal than just a town, than that monster...because that wasn't, my monster. I've never seen one like it...in fact there's a lot of monsters that haven't been mine…”</p>
<p>“Yours...like something taken from your head?” Henry was sure he understood the concept by now, or at least the basics of it, and was mostly stalling, but he didn't like the implications of it being his own monster he was seeing. </p>
<p>“Yes. essentially. Henry did...you recognize anything?” Henry looked at him and then straight at the wall, he didn't want to divulge any of those flashbacks or hellish visions, and part of him felt Walter might ask even though Henry hadn't asked about the prison and Walter didn't seem all that nosey. He was still too weary to say so. </p>
<p>“...maybe. It was...hard to see much or Figure out what was happening.” He said softly after a moment and Walter regarded this with some suspicion but there was so much going on he doubted there was much he could do about Henry’s lie.</p>
<p>“Right...i don't really remember a school anywhere...but it must be Silent Hill..” Walter mumbled and Henry wondered how he could not know anything about a school if he was raised there, surely the orphanage had taken him to school right? Silent Hill wasn't that big and likely didn't have that many schools, Walter seemed fairly intelligent but then again he had an oddly immature way of speaking that indicated he hadn't spent a lot of time around other people. Henry began to wonder if he’d ever been to school but he then realized maybe this was something odd to be focused on at the moment. </p>
<p>“Well....what were we doing before i..” Henry readied himself to stand and Walter sort of snapped out of his contemplation, looking even more worried at the implication that Henry didn't remember what had happened, which he didn't. </p>
<p>“You picked something up off the floor, a key I think.” Walter stood and walked over to the pile of love letters on the floor, scooping up what Henry had to assume was the key off of the floor, and looking at it, turning it over in his hands a few times. Henry stood up and then suddenly grabbed the railing hard, as he was very dizzy, he heard soft voices in his ears but he couldn't make out any words, like a head rush of blood from being held upside down. He took several breaths and shoved the voices out of his mind, rolling his shoulders back and trying to psyche himself up to keep moving though the exhaustion. </p>
<p>“Where does it lead to?” Henry asked before Walter could inquire about his well being.</p>
<p>“I think it must be the second floor, I haven't seen any other locked doors at least.” Walter nodded, and as he placed a foot on the last stair, he reached forward with the key in hand for Henry to take. It was small but old and looked like it had fallen off of Sunderland’s huge key ring that he always jingled around, spinning it on his finger obnoxiously, as it had his signature tape with “2 M.” written on it in that oddly slanted handwriting that sometimes made it hard to read. He didn't know what that really meant in terms of Frank’s organization system but Walter’s assumption likely wasn't far off. Henry didn't want to touch it, whatever had actually triggered that weird, awful lucid dream, he now associated it with this key.</p>
<p>“You...could you just, could you hold onto it for now?” he asked, wincing internally at how pathetic he sounded, but if Walter agreed with that, he made it extremely hard to tell, to the paint that it almost seemed like he sympathized with him. He nodded and pocketed the key, there was something halfway relieved in his gaze. </p>
<p>“C'mon lets go...go try it on the door.” Henry nodded and Walter began following him upstairs. Henry had briefly forgotten about the woman hanging from the ceiling, her body hanging from the ceiling looked like it had been slightly charred. Neither of them looked too hard at it. </p>
<p>The second floor was unchanged and thus they took very little note of it besides hearing that voice continue crying from behind the door they needed to go through, Henry wondered if it was real or some fragment of his imagination, but it didn't matter. Walter took the key and unlocked the door, only to have it crumble to dust in his hands. They both stared at the remains, dumbfounded.</p>
<p>“...i see.”</p>
<p>“I guess we won't need that key anymore…” Henry murmured as Walter blinked and shook his head, dusting his hand off as he reached for the door and pulled it open with no issue. Henry didn't figure it mattered, and couldn't only deal with so much of this anyways. Progress was progress he supposed. </p>
<p>The second floor hallway was about the same as the third floor, as in rotting and covered in fleshy walls that seemed to be bleeding, and thick metal grates on the floor. Room 204 was close by, but it smelled awful, sweet and rotting, they didn't try the door. The sobbing of the somewhat masculine voice was louder like the person was sitting somewhere in this hallway weeping. Walter and Henry made their way around the corner and he noticed the milk crates full of empty liquor bottles next to 203. The voice was coming from close to said door, and Henry was sure he could hear muffled, slurred aggressive talking from behind the door. Something about this was familiar, he didn't remember this personally per say, but he knew the feelings behind it. </p>
<p>“It won't open..” Walter said after trying the handle, he seemed somewhat distressed, and Henry assumed he could hear the crying himself. </p>
<p>“You don't want it to.” Henry shook his head and Walter looked over, head tilted but his neutral smile long gone. “If i remember right this guy..who lives here, is an alcoholic. He's really loud and mean too so...if he's there…” the slurred muttering had stopped but they both jumped hearing a loud thud and what sounded like a sliding closet being ripped open. </p>
<p>“Well...i guess it's not so bad it's locked then…” Walter kept his eyes glued to the door, “likely he wouldn't be in there anyways but…” he shook his head, “i can't stand alcohol...a lot of bad memories...certainly there's worse things one could do, things that could be done to you but…”</p>
<p>“Hm. can't blame you there..” Henry sighed, no other sounds came from the room, and the two of them retreated from the door as best as they could, Henry wondered what Walter meant, having no parents cut that off as a possible source of this aversion, but frankly it could be anyone. He understood this in some way, yet another unwilling tether between the two of them, but on the other hand, Henry wondered if Walter would hate him too for the not insignificant drinking he'd resorted to in the last few years. A sense of both shame at this, and an insane desire to tell him so he would be disgusted by his habit, and by extension, him. He pushed passed it as Walter reached over to 202, to find this door had given way to his persuasions of the door handle. No time to dwell, so press forward they did.</p>
<p>Inside another copy pasted apartment was probably the most bizarre room Henry had seen in awhile. There was exactly zero sense of livability here, no couch or tv or anything of the sort, it seemed more like a studio than anything else. Painting supplies, cups of dirty paint water, and several tubes of paint and canvases everywhere, paint covering the walls which Henry was sure Sunderland would just love if he were to see it. </p>
<p>“Well, i'm not really an artist but…” Walter looked over the paintings set up all over the apartment and Henry couldn't help but feel similarly. None of the paintings were super detailed and they all had this strange, off putting sort of art style to them. Like the vaguest suggestions of people, bodies, faces and backgrounds, you could get a very good sense of what the artist was going for and even who it was supposed to be, but there was something odd about them.</p>
<p>There was a painting for everybody.</p>
<p>He noted the sweet old couple that lived on the third floor, the family with the seven children, down the hallway and found ones of Richard, Frank, the man with the model guns, one of a female nurse in a pink uniform with bright red hair, one, notably of Mike, the old tennent of 301, a painting that had once been finished but was now completely drenched in black paint besides a hand holding a red note, and even one that looked somewhat fresh of Eileen. Mike's painting was slathered in red paint along his hands and throat which was odd as most every other painting was mostly just someone standing or sitting somewhere not doing much or even expressing much in their faces, but Mike’s face was almost twisted in agony. Henry looked away from it. In the center of the wall was a huge canvas, a bit taller than Walter covered with a sheet and though he was curious, Henry got the idea he should leave it be.</p>
<p>“You're missing.” Walter said startling Henry a bit, he glanced over at him and saw him looking down at the painting of a muscular looking man holding a game controller of sorts in his hands.</p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“You...there's a painting of everyone here. Well, everyone but us. but i just moved here.” he said slightly confused seeming, “i just can't figure why there wouldn't be one of you.”</p>
<p>“It would be weirder if he did have one of me.” </p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>“Well...” Henry paused trying to find a way to say that he never left the damn house in daylight for somebody to look at him enough to paint him without sounding pathetic or mean. “I just don't think he’s seen a lot of me. Not enough to paint me at least.” </p>
<p>“....i guess that's fair.” Walter glanced at the sheet and reached for it before seeming to decide he didn't want to know what was under it. Henry had wandered down the hall and tried all the doors but none of them would open, and he didn't feel like standing in this room with all these weird creepy paintings lying around. He really didn't like the one of Mike or Richard, they had more facial detail than the other ones and it was extremely off putting. Richard looked downright evil, a twisted insane grin, not wholly unlike the one he’d had when threatening them. Henry wondered if it was his own bias against Richard that made him think this, but it wasn't like Walter had a different opinion of him so he didn't ask. </p>
<p>“No keys here.” Henry shook his head and Walter tore his eyes from the painting of Eileen and nodded, but before either of them could leave the room, the phone rang, the shrill sound startling both of them as they located it and stared for a moment.</p>
<p>“Should we...answer it?” Walter said but just as he did the phone stopped ringing, but the answering machine blinked, as if asking them to pick it up. Henry walked closer and picked up the phone and played the voicemail, turning it on speaker so they both could hear it. A deep scratchy voice could be heard over the fuzzy static.</p>
<p><em>...Mr……… you know i can only do so much….i'm just trying to help you…..</em> </p>
<p>The phone cut out for a moment, and they could hear what sounded like a woman's voice, two women, talking quietly to each other before the static picked up again and a different hushed angry voice continued. </p>
<p>
  <em>i don't know what the fuck you're thinking letting him stay here, but i'm getting sick of it. I swear to god if you don't do your fucking job i'm calling the goddamn cops on both of you.</em>
</p>
<p>A slight ‘boop!’ and the message ended, cutting off the automated woman asking if they wanted to delete the message. Henry put the receiver down and glanced at Walter who looked disturbed. </p>
<p>“I wonder….” Walter murmured, frowning as he stared at it.</p>
<p>“Do you think this is...related somehow to..something, something that's going on here?” Henry suggested, Walter frowned and tapped his fingers against the counter.</p>
<p>"That's the only thing it can be. Theres….theres always a reason for these things, in these worlds, there's never something here for no reason…” Walter stated with a heavy sigh, leaning on the counter as he spoke, looking like he was trying to parse what this could possibly mean, what connection this could possibly have to anything else going on. Walter didn't recognize it, and neither did Henry, and he had to wonder if this implied other people were involved in this hell, and to what degree. </p>
<p>Concerning at the very least. </p>
<p>There was nothing more they could do however, and the both of them knew it, Henry almost wanted to try and grill him for more theories as to who this was for or what it meant, but he was almost certain he didn't know anymore than he had said. Whatever Walter did know, it wasn't this. His intuition was finicky but not completely worthless after all. </p>
<p>They slipped out into the hallway and Henry noticed bodies now hanging from the ceiling, bodies that looked like theyd been dragged behind a car on a rope for several miles, blood and raw exposed muscle being the only features. They dangled from chain nooses and each body was enclosed in metal cages, some had breasts and others did not but despite being naked there was no other indication what sex they had once been, had they been anything but personless fleshy sacks of meat here to unnerve the two men staring at them. </p>
<p>“I don't like the new decorations.” Henry muttered without thinking, a quick release of breath from beside him was odd but when he glanced at Walter he seemed like he almost found his comment funny, but in a weary sense, too tired or scared to really enjoy it, but almost like it was welcome. Strange. </p>
<p>“What else do we have...201?”</p>
<p>“Looks like it. I...i don't know if anyone lives there, but...i don't know what else we’re supposed to do.” he shrugged and Walter seemed to agree as he turned and began walking that way. Henry noted how he did so, each step very deliberate and almost slow, like he wanted to make sure he was doing it correctly, like every movement was well thought out and meticulous, Walter moved quickly and yet slowly, had he been any shorter he would likely have moved at the snails pace that Frank did, but his height allowed him to make relatively large strides despite this. Never enough that Henry couldn't keep up, but significant nevertheless. </p>
<p>201 opened with a strange noise, like the sound of a door opening coming from a much larger hallway with more echoing halls, despite it being a carpeted cheaply built apartment. Entering the room told Henry immediately they were supposed to be here.</p>
<p>Three different bird cages stood on stools in the middle of the room, sitting against the wall was an old metal bed, rust colored bloodstains drenching the once white sheets. Each cage was old and damaged but they were all distinct. The one on the far left was a bright crimson color, domed  and stylized like a tourture chamber for birds. The center cage was boxy like a hamster cage, but it was just as small as the one next to it, cramped and dangerous. The last cage was much bigger still on a stool but it was a lot shorter as this long cage held more room for an actual bird to live in. there were small notes attached to the front of each cage and Henry could hear fluttering wings and an old clock slowly ticking though he couldn't see the source for either.  </p>
<p>"I think this is that bird thing." Walter said after a moment of looking over the cages, "there's-oh…" Henry watched as the red cage he'd been standing next to had started bleeding, or more accurately it looked like a faucet had been left on and the blood flowed from the cage not unlike a sink too filled with water. </p>
<p>“Well...well that sure is…” Walter shook his head.</p>
<p>“Inviting?” Henry approached the other cages and grabbed the notes attached to them, they were all numbered hopefully to help him keep them straight and written in that slanted but still printed letters instead of cursive. </p>
<p>“Something like that..” Walter grimaced and glanced at Henry as he gingerly grabbed the last note. He shuffled through them and frowned trying to figure out what they meant, before realizing Walter likely couldn't read them at all, he scanned them first before reading them aloud. </p>
<p>
  <em> one, the one to speak for the silent, misguided voice against injustice, perpetrator of vile acts, deluded. Two, the one to inspire hope, naive but not foolish, harboring darkness out of fear, gentleness. Three, the one to know their own power, facade of willful unawares, grief locked far away, guilty. </em>
</p>
<p>“Hm...strange...i don't, well it must have something to do with that bird riddle right?” Walter reasoned as he slowly paced the room, avoiding the pool of blood along the floor. Henry reached for his pocket and attempted to find the poem about the birds but there were so many notes and documents he was having an issue. He ended up just pulling it all out to try and find it, including the black notebook from the water prison. Walter seemed to zero in on it once he noticed what he was doing and the look on his face was confusing and concerning. Some mix of sickened and panicked. </p>
<p>“Henry where did...where did you get that?” He asked shakily and Henry who was still trying to sort through his papers and the cassette tape didn't answer for a moment, Walter seemed more aggravated by this, “Henry…”</p>
<p>“I found it.” he replied, somewhat absently as he managed to organize everything and place most of it, notebook included, back into his pocket, only holding the three notes and the bird riddle, “is that a problem?”</p>
<p>“...no. I suppose not.” Walter said quietly, the lack of his smile when he spoke softly like this was almost scary, there was something in his expression that was concerning, like desperation or anger perhaps. Henry couldn't place it, and now wished he had the chance to read the notebook and figure out what Walter found so appalling about it, a sick part of him wanting to know even though he didn't deserve to.</p>
<p>“...anyways. I don't think we’re uhm...supposed to open the cage with the blood..” he said trying to change the subject, Walter’s face fell to something like neutrality and he glanced at the cage wearily.</p>
<p>“No. no i can't imagine that would be a good idea.” Walter said tilting his head and glancing at the other two. “I have to assume the..the bloody one is the, what was it, war and rage right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah...that sounds right. But the other two..” he glanced at the notes and tried to make a connection between them, part of him thought he understood or knew the answer but he couldn't really think straight, the smell of the blood just as potent as the image of it. </p>
<p>“Willful unawares… what was that second line in the poem?” Walter asked frowning as his fingers graced the side of the middle cage. Henry repeated it and Walter nodded slowly. “I think that's the third cage.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure?” </p>
<p>“I think so, the poem talks about mourning, and that note speaks of grief, and that leaves the second cage having more..positive attributes it seems.”</p>
<p>“That's true.” Henry nodded as Walter spoke, the other man more efficiently able to verbalize the confusing mix of logic Henry was sure he had almost figured out, his mind more a swirl of abstract thoughts at the moment than anything really able to make much sense of a puzzle. Henry approached the middle cage and hesitated, but managed to gather the courage to reach forward and open the second cage.</p>
<p>The sound of fluttering wings graced his ears like a flock of birds had decided to whisper a secret to him, Walter glanced around quickly as well as if he also heard it, and they both heard a bloodcurdling scream, and a soft sob and the sound of two muffled gunshots. Both go them flinched away and Henry on instinct walked close to Walter looking around as if trying to find a source of the sound, his body in between Walter and where he was sure the sounds had come from. </p>
<p>“What the hell…” Henry turned to him to find his oddly serene face somewhat strained.</p>
<p>“It wasn't real.” Walter interrupted him softly, shaking his head. “Illusions. I believe we did the right thing though, look.” he pointed to the cages to find all of them opened and items in all of them. He reached in the correct cage to find a strange key, about twice the size of Henry’s hand it looked like a strange metal tool of some sort , feathers seemed to have been melted to it and the end was twisted oddly like a screw but did have the end of a key so he figured it must be the key. </p>
<p>“I guess this goes to the lock on the other side. It's a weird key though…” Henry glanced at it and then absently let Walter hold it, turning to the other cages while he examined the object. Henry reached in the cage that had been bleeding and pulled out a kitchen knife that had been hanging from a small hook inside it, it stopped bleeding immediately afterwards. He held it and looked it over, very shiny like it had been recently sharpened though it was clearly very old. Thoughts crept into his mind that he tried to push out, he knew he was fine to hold sharp objects as long as he didn't think too much about it, besides, Walter was here. </p>
<p>“Found a weapon.” he stated, turning towards Walter holding the knife which seemed to startle the blonde man a little, embarrassed he angled it down but Walter seemed to have gotten over it rather quickly. </p>
<p>‘Well that’ll be helpful, uh, you can hold onto it if you'd like..” He said gesturing a little, slipping the key in his pocket but it didn't really bother Henry as much as it might've before. They had to go the same way after all. </p>
<p>“Might as well...i keep hearing those apes...and there were dogs here before.” he noted Walter shuddering at the mention of the dogs and couldn't blame him. Not with dogs like those. </p>
<p>“...great. What's in that last cage?” </p>
<p>Henry approached it and reached in the large cage, picking up two small scraps realizing it was a note in the same handwriting as the rest of this little riddle, and a photograph. He read the note first as he got the strangest feeling that it was for him specifically. Though he supposed Walter could read it as well. </p>
<p><em>thank you sweet mockingbird, i trust you are kind, a good man despite so much. I apologize as i must ask something more of you, when you find them, and you will find them or rather they will find you, please don't hurt the children. They are scared, they will frighten you with what they are here for, but please don't hurt them, i do not know how to soothe them and sadly i don't think that is my role. If you can help them, please dear mockingbird, do so. You will find me as well, and when you do, if you would be so kind as to put me out of my misery in any way you can, I would be eternally in your debt. Don't be like me Mockingbird, keep allies within arms reach, you will need them and they will need you. </em> </p>
<p>“What's the note say?” Walter asked him softly, and Henry though he felt sort of sensitive to showing him the note, did so anyways. Henry watched him read it, studying his face as he concentrated, and then somehow feeling warmer and stupid for doing this, yet he couldn't seem to look away. Walter glanced up when he was done and Henry pretended to be preoccupied with staring at the wall. If Walter found this weird, or caught him doing this he didn't say anything.</p>
<p>“Well this is...interesting. I don't know what sort of children this person is talking about…”</p>
<p>“Maybe the ones back….with the two faces...” Henry suggested but was cut off.</p>
<p>“No. no not them.” Walter interrupted, “just...they're not real children, they're monsters.” </p>
<p>Henry regarded this feeling odd about it, Walter’s tear filled pleading eyes in the prison told him otherwise, yet the fact that there were multiple of these creatures lend credence to what he was saying now. The black book in his pocket very well might have the answers, but he decided to ignore this for now. He remembered the newspaper clipping, and somehow felt a connection between the two, putting a metaphorical pin in that for later.</p>
<p>“What's that picture?” Walter pointed at it and Henry remembered he was holding it, glancing down and seeing it was fairly old, dated February 1966 but both names on it were scratched out with black marker, as were both faces in the picture. The picture was of a man, not particularly old but clearly an adult, sitting on a bench and in his arms and on one knee he held a small child of maybe two or three, the child was holding a teddy bear and wearing overalls and a little jacket, while the man wore a fairly distinct heavy green coat, he hugged the child and they looked to be fairly happy in their body language though it was impossible to tell without seeing their faces. Henry turned the picture over to see words scrawled on the back in unfamiliar pretty handwriting. </p>
<p>
  <em>happy birthday!</em>
</p>
<p>And a second note just under it written by the author of the riddle.</p>
<p>
  <em>it's not too late.</em>
</p>
<p>“It's a picture of, I guess a dad and his kid, but i don't know these people.” Henry shook his head but somehow he wasn't sure if that was entirely true, there was something that wasn't quite clicking that he felt like he should know somehow. A pause and Walter looked at the picture, not that it helped as he also shook his head in confusion. Henry wondered how many new questions they could find without getting any real answers. He put the picture along with the note in his ever growing collection of nonsensical documents and the two of them seemed to decide that this room held nothing more for them, they had the key afterall. Henry said something like a hopeful prayer for whoever had helped them, this echo or ghost of a person leaving letters and giving vague but still worthwhile advice and help.</p>
<p>It was about time the ghosts he had always seen started helping him.</p>
<p>Out the room and down the hall there was nowhere else to go but back near the stairs, it smelled fucking terrible, like garbage and old meat and the both of them visbly grimaced as they walked.</p>
<p>“I wonder why we haven't seen any more monsters here…” Walter murmured as he pushed open the heavy double doors.</p>
<p>“Dunno but that's a good thing right?” Henry tilted his head, holding the knife slightly too tight in his sweating palms and having to remember to relax it somewhat. </p>
<p>“Well yes i suppose that's true i just usually there's a lot more than this...it makes me think something is..something is scaring them off, or killing them…” he said absently standing next to the stairway, hand looking like it wanted to touch the railing but not commiting as it still looked slick with blood or drool or some other unknown fluid. </p>
<p>“....You think there's something worse around here?” </p>
<p>“Well...it's not unlikely.” Walter said darkly and Henry wasn't sure what to say to that, a kitchen knife was not well equipped to handle something like those apes or the dogs, much less something significantly worse. Walter seemed to realize that this was not a helpful statement, something in his eyes when he turned to look at Henry seemed to recognize a feeling he was trying to hide. Henry didn't like that the blonde man could read him in any capacity. </p>
<p>“Maybe i'm just paranoid...i mean there's no evidence of something worse...i supposed the lack of something bad doesn't mean there's something worse hiding somewhere…”</p>
<p>“...maybe.”</p>
<p>“You don't agree do you.” Another piercing moment of direct statements that were true but unnerving to be said aloud. </p>
<p>“...it doesn't really matter.” Henry shrugged, ignoring the feeling of being picked apart like a piece of text put under a microscope.“if there is something, we’ll find it.”  </p>
<p>“Yeah…” Walter didn't elaborate more, he likely agreed but didn't want to elaborate or continue to think too deeply about it, granted Henry didn't want to think about it either. </p>
<p>The taller man pulled the odd looking key out of his pocket and walked to the cage locking the door tight. He paused however, not really sure what he was supposed to do with the key. Henry looked it over as well but there wasn't any kind of keyhole or padlock of any kind. Walter frowned and then his face lightened up as he seemed to have an idea. Reaching his hand inside the cage he gently rested his fingers over the knuckles of the hand, and oddly it began to move, uncurling it's fingers slowly like claymation until it turned itself around, palm upwards reaching for something. Walter hesitated but ultimately gently set the key on the hand, said hand curled it's fingers around it and maneuvered it to push the key into its palm. A loud clunk and the cage split in half and clattered to the floor, the two men jumping back a little, as the hand twitched and trembled like it had been stabbed, the clay melting off, dripping off of the door like candle wax. The key became a doorknob, and the hand was gone completely, the door creaked open slowly. </p>
<p>“Ever onward then.” Walter said stepping forward after a moment of silence. His statement was nothing and yet everything, he seemed a bit more talkative now, Henry wasn't sure if he found it irritating and unnecessary or endearing and sort of soothing. He knew he wasn't the best at identifying emotions in himself or others but he'd really like if it stopped being so contradictory. </p>
<p>The next set of rooms was not too much different than the last, though instead of bodies hanging from the ceiling there were caged bodies nailed to the bleeding walls, large metal meathooks jammed into their flesh, different sized and shaped bodies mutilated and gored, like several counts of the highest heresy, a mockery of the christ, made almost sexual in it's display. In the abject exhibit of the desecration of human corpses. Or things pretending to be human corpses. Neither man could look at one another, even as they couldn't tear their eyes from the mockery. </p>
<p>205 and 206 were both locked, Henry swore he could hear a TV inside 205, and it smelled of smoke for whatever reason but he wasn't about to try and break down a door, like the room with the alcoholic, it didn't seem relevant just yet. He heard small voices in 206, children's voices talking amongst themselves, whispering and another child's voice that sounded like it was coming through a record player, this child seemed a bit older and was crying, asking for forgiveness, asking what he did wrong. This door was useless now as well, so regretfully they had to move on.</p>
<p>207 then. The door handle seemed to work, but even Walter was hesitant.</p>
<p>“It's Richard’s room.” Henry said softly at his pause, this didn't make Walter feel better as evidenced by his deep frown.</p>
<p>“Do you think he's here?”</p>
<p>“....well. He might have come out and attacked us by now for touching the door really…”</p>
<p>“That's true...unfortunately.” Walter sighed, though this did seem to calm him a little. He didn't open the door for a moment still, his brow furrowed like he had something on his mind, something preventing him from pressing forwards. A roadblock needing to be cleared. </p>
<p>“...do you think i did something wrong?” he asked eventually, “something to make him hate me, something...something that made him feel like i was a problem?”</p>
<p>Henry stared at him, genuinely unsure of what he was supposed to say to this, was Walter under the impression he wasn't the problem? Or did he simply mean in terms of what Richard knew, which was likely nothing. Unless Walter wasn't really the harbinger of doom Henry was sure he was, he honestly didn't know for sure. Regardless, Walter couldn't have really done anything to aggravate the older man in less than a week or so. Nothing significant anyways.</p>
<p>“I don't know. Richard doesn't like people, and he really doesn't like men. Even if you didn't do anything he probably wouldn't like you.” he said eventually, Walter contemplated this, tilting his head to listen, sections of tangled hair falling down his shoulders. </p>
<p>“Do you think i did do something?”</p>
<p>“...i don't know.” it was all Henry could do, all he could say without getting into it, without examining his complex irrational feelings regarding his tall mysterious neighbor. Walter just nodded, as if he wasn't going to defend himself, he just wanted to know if Henry thought he was guilty, strange really. He couldn't decipher a motive behind that. </p>
<p>They entered the room and neither of them seemed to be able to rationalize what they were seeing in front of them. Henry felt sick to his stomach. </p>
<p>Blood. Good God there was so much blood. </p>
<p>The blue and white tiled floors were an odd design choice already, the splattering of bright fresh red all over said tile didn't help tie the room together any better. The coffee table, couch, and a elegantly designed but not very comfortable wooden chair were pushed out of place as if they had all stepped back away from the gore. There was no body, no animal, just blood and the handle of what was once some kind of knife. In a small garbage can off to the side were clothes so gorey he could hardly tell what they were. Everything else about the room seemed normal enough, there was an elegant tea set on the coffee table, no counter in the kitchen area like Henry’s room had but a small kitchen table instead. A coat rack off in a corner with several of Richard’s ties and a suit jacket placed neatly there, dusted lamps and knick knacks lined up, he’d even screwed hooks into the wall to hang some of his kitchen utensils and pots. And other hooks with nice plates being hung on the walls of the living room, next to a few small paintings of holy, biblical women. Everything but the violence in the center was immaculate. </p>
<p>It seemed very much like Richard had been the one to snap and do something awful just like he'd tried to claim Henry was going to do eventually. Either that, or something had happened to him here, and b the looks of it he hadn't survived. Henry went to look down the hallway but all of the other doors were nailed shut. He knew this was some hellish version of their apartment, and thus tried to rationalize that maybe all this blood was here just to scare them, which it was doing a damn good job of, even though his nagging suspicions told him there was something more here. He turned to Walter who seemed to have frozen in place, and was clenching his jaw hard. </p>
<p>“Why are we here…” Henry asked him lightly, having slipped the knife in his back pocket, hoping to break some of the tense silence, Walter glanced at him and tried to think, but his mind clearly wasn't all there, Henry couldn't blame him for that at the very least. So instead of pushing Walter any further, he looked around for any clues as to what he was supposed to do here. Afterall, nothing was without its purpose.</p>
<p>He noticed a small mahogany case sitting on the chair and, bypassing the blood as much as possible, and picking it up. It slid open and in a velvety red case was the outline of a revolver. Henry pulled the gun out of his pocket, and realized what he was being told to do here. There was a sacrifice that must be made, why? He wasn't sure, but he knew there wasn't any other option. Before he did this however, he opened the chamber and removed both bullets, slipping them into his pocket. Sure, if Richard was still around he likely had more ammo somewhere, but he wanted the satisfaction of knowing it was empty for now. He placed the gun in it's lovingly crafted little bed, and set it down on the chair again. Only to hear the clinking of china and the whistling of a tea kettle from behind him. When he whipped around to look he saw Walter staring dumbfounded at a small teacup, covered in blood that most certainly hadn't been there before.</p>
<p>“It just sort of...appeared.” he said somewhat stupidly gesturing to the cup.</p>
<p>“Magical.”</p>
<p>“I guess so.” Walter shook his head, “what did you do?”</p>
<p>“I just put the gun back…”</p>
<p>“Is that a good idea?”</p>
<p>“I took the bullets out. And i...i don't want it anyways.”</p>
<p>The taller man nodded and then gingerly picked up the teacup with three fingers as if afraid that he'd break it, or it would bite him. He glanced over the pretty but otherwise unremarkable china until he squinted at something on it and gestured to Henry to come look, which he did, still stepping over the blood when he could. He followed Walter's finger with his gaze to find that in the china the number 1/5 was carved there. </p>
<p>“I think this is important somehow…”</p>
<p>“Yeah. it must be…”</p>
<p>“Maybe something to do with the other poem?” he suggested and Henry had to think for a moment before he realized when he was talking about, somehow that sounded right, and he simply nodded. </p>
<p>“Well if that's true, we need to find some other...i dunno objects i guess.” he gestured slowly, Walter held the cup in his hands, turning it around over and over, examining it closely. Henry watched him do this, watched how his eyes scanned every detail, how his fingers looked to be trying to imprint the designs of leaves and flowers along the edges into his memory. His heavy but colorful eyes learned everything about what he was seeing as best as they could, and it added to this ethereal presence he seemed to have. Like he wasn't quite human, but he couldn't be anything else either. Their eyes met while Henry was trying to analyze this further and didn't realize he'd zoned out and they froze, locked a tense, heavy, and yet confusing stare. </p>
<p>Henry broke away first glancing at the drenched floor and sighing, rubbing his shoulder with one hand and trying to think. </p>
<p>“I guess we should take it with us.”</p>
<p>“Yes i agree...i mean...worse that can happen is it gets broken i suppose.” he saw Walter shrug out of the corner of his eye and there was more quiet until he decided he couldn't handle being in this room with all this blood and the weird atmosphere anymore. </p>
<p>“Well I don't think anything else is in here.” and with that, he began walking towards the door, soft, deliberate footsteps told him that Walter had decided to follow. He swore he heard some muffled shouting as he grabbed the door handle, but he didn't care about that now. Walter didn't react to it. It wasn't real. </p>
<p>He felt better and yet worse to be out in the hallway again, better to be out of that room, and immediately worse as the air in the hallway felt as thick as jelly. Cold and damp and damaged, like mildew was being poured into a humidifier. Before they could decide where to go there was a loud metallic thud, and the sickening sound of meat against meat, metal against metal, like that screeching from the turning of the Water Prison. Henry clasped his hands over his ears for a moment until it was gone, the ringing in his head felt like he'd been hit with a pipe, and he didn't look up until he felt a gentle tap on his hand, turning to Walter slowly he immediately saw what had happened. Walter’s comment solidified it into reality.</p>
<p>“It seems, We've found 208.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Reverse Will</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[If any God should say, "I will restore The world her yesterday Whole as before My Judgment blasted it"--who would not lift Heart, eye, and hand in passion o'er the gift?]</p>
<p>Reach into the past to bear witness to his hopeless future.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WHEW well nearly ten days later I've done it! thank you guys for all the support and comments as usual they really really make my day!<br/>also a treat for anyone who can pick out all of my various obscure references in this chapter as well as the normal ones ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And so they had. A door ripped from nonsense itself, 208 stood there as a monument to what was effectively fairy tale bullshit, and Henry was more concerned that he wasn't all that perturbed by this anymore. </p>
<p>Or rather, he wasn't concerned that a door had suddenly appeared in his apartment complex seemingly leading to something nightmarish, more he was on edge by the concept that he now had to deal with whatever was on the other side. He was starting to figure out that it was never a good thing to have feelings like this. To know they were supposed to explore it and to also somehow know they had no other choice, what else were they going to do? And those pulls in his gut, being yanked forward like an unwilling dog on a leash to the vet, not knowing what was inside but knowing it would be terrifying and painful.</p>
<p>“I don't think we have much of a choice.” stating the obvious, Walter hesitated setting his hand on the doorknob, as if fearing it was too hot or going to bite him, Henry had to agree, he wondered if he felt that pull too, and if so what it meant that both of them felt it.</p>
<p>“Does it always do stuff like this?” Henry asked him, and when Walter saw his expression he got the feeling that he both knew what he was referring to and knew that Henry was more tired than scared at this point. </p>
<p>“Yes. it does. Things open when they shouldn't, things here when they aren't supposed to be, it wants to lead us down a path, whatever that path is, I don't know, and it very well may be trying to kill us.” Walter said, almost glad to be hesitating, to put off entering the room, Henry sighed, still very hesitant and suspicious of him. He pulled the knife from his pocket and ran his thumb along the space that connected the handle to the blade. What he'd do with it, he didn't know, but at the very least, it was something.</p>
<p>“I don't want to give it the chance…”</p>
<p>“But what other choice do we have.” Walter said, finishing his sentence in a way close to how he would've. Something unnerving in how final it was. Walter stood to his full height and turned the door handle, pushing it open and stepping inside. </p>
<p>The room was set up differently than the other apartments, it seemed like it had been ripped out of a different apartment complex entirely. They entered a small hallway that led out to a bigger room off to the left. It wasn't quite pitch black but still very dark, as Walter shuffled into the living room to find it bathed in a bright white glow of static. The two of them gazed at a mostly empty living room, with only a chair and TV nearly against the wall, the tv was on with just snow fuzzing gently. Henry noticed, in the light of the television, along the walls were a good hundred or so moths, resting, not moving, waiting. Once or twice he saw them open and close their wings, but nothing more than that. Two doors were opposite each other along the walls, both boarded up. The two of them stood there silently for a moment as they recognized the cold hard fact that there was a body in the chair.</p>
<p>The loud ticking of a clock started up suddenly, and the two of them jumped, the heavy click, click, click, continued on as Henry felt the urge to examine the person in the chair, he didn't know why, or what good it would do, but he got the feeling that it was important. Stepping to the side of the chair, he saw that this person was most definitely dead. The body smelled like stagnant water, he thought it might have been a man as the body was fairly big despite the broad chest. There was no way to tell much about this person, who he might have once been if he was real at all, his body was drenched in blood discoloring all of his clothes, his skin gray as he'd been dead for some time. Heavy, wet strands of hair plastered against his face, the lighting so bad it was hard to tell what color it was, the only thing really notable about the man's face, the only thing that wasn't bathed in shadow and bloodied was his long, prominent nose. Regardless, he was dead, his large pale hands laid along the armrests, he wasn't breathing, and hadn't been for a long time. Henry didn't know why he had such strange feelings regarding this body, it was functionally the same as the bodies nailed to the walls with spears through their genitals, and yet he felt oddly sad to see this one, even though it likely wasn't real. He wondered how he died, it looked painful, most of the blood seemed to just be on him, not that it originated anywhere, except for his arms. one of them was turned off to the side and he could see the deep gash that started at his wrist and that he assumed went much deeper down his arms even though they were covered by his coat. </p>
<p>“Henry he...he's gone.” Walter’s voice was hushed and Henry hadn't realized it but he'd been standing there staring at the body for too long. He drew in a long breath and nodded.</p>
<p>“Yeah I know. He's been gone a long time.” he stepped away from the chair and tried to look around the room to find any real reason they'd be taken here, if it was for the body then why? To taunt Henry for his feelings? He doubted it, if this man had committed suicide he chose a damn weird way to do it, slicing ones wrists and putting a coat on afterwards was more than bizarre. And why the tv? And the moths? He couldn't figure it out, it made him sort of sad but other than that and the general discomfort of seeing a corpse, he couldn't figure a reason why they were there. </p>
<p>“I can't...I mean, why are we here?” he asked him and Walter just shook his head, though he could barely see his expression he could be sure that he was just as baffled as Henry was. </p>
<p>“I couldn't be sure, he's the only thing here. it's sad isn't it...this whole, this whole room just feels...heavy.” he gestured outwards with his palms to the ceiling. Henry had no idea what to make of that, but he had to agree honestly. There was something in the atmosphere like grief, and the same thing in his own apartment when he couldn't be bothered to care if he rotted away, the taste of apathy and suffering in the air as much as the dust and smell of an old pond. </p>
<p>“Maybe we should leave…” Henry said, rocking side to side on his feet while he glanced around the shabby, oddly waterlogged carpet, the ticking of the clock continued to pierce the air as they spoke, looked around the room and still found nothing. Walter walked to the kitchen but evidently saw nothing, or rather nothing of interest. </p>
<p>“This isn't right...there should be something here, there's no reason it would just..appear like this if there wasn't a reason.” Walter was still speaking in that quiet tone but he sounded confused, and perhaps a bit nervous. Henry didn't know one way or the other but was getting the creeping feeling that they needed to leave, they should get out of the room before something happened, though he wasn't sure.</p>
<p>He noticed suddenly, the clock had stopped, and the dead silence rang in his ears like a deafening song. He turned to scan the room, sure he was being watched. He was holding his breath, knife in hand, and he was positive there was danger somewhere. </p>
<p>The hand of the dead man twitched. </p>
<p>Henry was laser focused on the body now, the inexplicable need to walk closer to the body, he wasn't thinking he slowly stepped near, and he saw it move again, proving that it had in the first place. The fingers curled into a fist on the chair, and he saw the chest begin to rise and fall, and he began to fear the body itself might start to move. Eyes he didn't see before had opened, a dull glassy green flecked with brown, the head turned to face him and the body began to sit up as the dead man stared at him. Direct eye contact and a pause. The dead man opened his mouth and then seemed to choke, one hand clutching his chest, he stared at Henry and seemed to be pleading with him, like he wanted to ask him something, say something to him, but his body lurched forward and he gagged, body doubled over, he kept heaving like he wanted to vomit. Henry tried to reach over, whatever he was, he was sick but before he could do anything for him the sound of choking and a flood of what looked like sludge and water escaped his mouth.</p>
<p>Henry backed away from the body slightly as the man kept vomiting, his body shaking with the agony of so much escaping him. He stopped for a second, to look up and try to speak again, tears streaming down his face less like he was crying and more like heavy rain lashing on a windshield, dripping down his cheeks and chin, washing some of the blood off onto his still soiled clothes. He shook violently and some words escaped his raspy throat, but he couldn't  hear what the dead man had said, before his body was wrecked with more agony and he began to vomit again. The sludge and water exiting him far exceeded his body mass, hands gripped the armrests of the chair as the room inexplicably began to fill with water, Henry watched in horror while the water reached the edge of his jeans, he couldn't take his eyes off of the body as the the man began to puke blood along with the water. He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew Walter was as scared as he was even though he couldn't tear his eyes away from the body. </p>
<p>The dead man stopped puking, his breathing labored and heavy but besides him gagging he had stopped, the water was above Henry’s shoes and before he could speak or even begin to rationalize what he was seeing, the man grabbed his chest, and raised his head to the ceiling, Henry saw fingers begin to pull themselves out of his mouth and he could only watch in horror. </p>
<p>It was like watching someone give birth through their mouth.</p>
<p>Hands began to force their way out of his throat clawing their way out of his mouth, one could see something moving around inside his chest and belly as the fleshy skinned looking hands grasped at the man's face and shoulders to push its way out. The man was choked, making awful pained noises as whatever was inside him decided it could be coming out, no matter what. Flesh and skin began to tear like cheap wrapping paper on a Christmas gift, arms split through his face and began ripping down his throat as a head forced its way out of the body. The hole it had already made wasn't large enough, and the flesh kept splitting open down the body's chest and stomach, there weren't any bones or organs as if this body was just a fleshy incubator instead of an actual person. The gore and blood kept sliding down the body as whatever was inside the dead man nearly eviscerated the body, clawing into the world in agony.</p>
<p>If the man hadn't been dead before, he sure was now. It looked like someone put a bomb inside the body. </p>
<p>The creature that floundered out of the body fell into the small pool of water and began thrashing around, blood being washed off of it as Henry and Walter slowly backed away from it as it emerged from the water, they stared on in horror.</p>
<p>It stood a few inches taller than Henry but shorter than Walter, it wasn't dressed and it's skin was boiled and swollen, red like it had been in some kind of fire or explosion, whatever skin was left was patchy, nearly translucent and pale with patches of darker skin, it retained some of the man's facial features, and yet there was something more familiar about it. It's hair like every newborn was covered in slick, disgusting viscera drenching the thick dark hair down, large buggy eyes were a gradient of green with brown spots, it's maw was wide and teeth filled it's exposed jaw as it began to lumber forward, fast and slow at the same time, it's legs bent strangely and feet oddly pointed. Large wings moth-like both in design and how worn and eaten away they were as fluttered uselessly behind it. Hands were curled awkwardly and it had long boney sharp claws, it's chest was wide but it had flesh on its chest reminiscent of breasts though it was still oiled and hard to see. as it hobbled at them, odd chattering left it's mouth as it's voice rose and fell in volume and tone, first loud and then soft whispering. Henry didn't know why but he felt ill, recognition in the face he saw, like he knew it somehow, it's face and nose was odd and he was sure he knew who it was. But he didn't want to acknowledge it. </p>
<p>It chattered at them and began to keep walking forward, stumbling and wandering like it was drunk, reaching forward with one large hooked finger pointing at Henry, and he froze, unsure of what he could do. Before he could think, the monster pounced on him, he felt a swoop in his stomach as he fell, water drenching his clothes as he felt sharp pain like long needles being dug into his sides and arms, he squirmed and thrashed the water around him sloshing around while he tried get it off of him. In his panic he forgot the knife until he felt it nearly scrape his arm. He jerked his knee up and kicked the thing in the ribs, it gagged and he forced the knife in between the two of them, managing to stab the thing in the belly.</p>
<p>It screeched and launched itself off of him, he felt arms pulling him up to his feet, glancing over to Walter but turned his attention to the monster thrashing around, it got to its feet and snarled, blood leaking from it's stomach. He swore on god he could hear it speak.</p>
<p>It lunged again but Walter stepped between him and the creature and grabbed the thing by it's large wings and threw it with all his strength at the wall. The screech was even louder this time and the monster was clearly pissed as it was on its feet half a second later, it lunged again this time grabbing walter and beginning to throw up in his face, some sort of acidic bile that smelled of gasoline and more of that lake water, Walter struggled with it grasping it's wrists and trying to shove it off of himself, Henry swiftly walked around it and forced an arm around it's throat, jamming the knife into its chest, the blade was awkward and difficult to slice through skin and muscle but the things boils and breasts provided easy fatty tissue to slice open. It screamed and spit in Walter’s face and the taller man writhed in pain but managed to keep his hands firmly on it's arms. Henry ripped the knife out of the monster, and took the knife to it's back again and pressed it hard into its spine while it's wings kept fluttering and smacking him in the face.</p>
<p>The creature had enough of being stabbed and in some insane amount of strength, the sound of breaking bone it slid its hands out of walter grasp and stumbled around until it managed to slam herny into the wall, he hit his head rather hard and couldn't react right away as the monster grabbed him, nails digging into his skin again as it threw him on the floor. </p>
<p>He heard another cry of pain, trying to sit up he saw the monster had spit in Walter’s eyes again, and the man was stumbling backwards in agony, he tried to get up but the creature attacked again and straddled him, trying to claw at his chest, Henry jammed the knife into it's thighs and it hissed, yet it also hummed oddly, almost like it enjoyed it, feeling disgust and more panic as he couldn't remove the knife, so he grabbed the things throat and began strangling it while it weakly clawed at his arms and hands, burning hot pain in his skin of shredded flesh as he kept ahold of it's throat, he could feel the acid vomit trying to force its way out of its mouth, and could tell his hands were the only thing keeping the bile down.</p>
<p>He saw huge pale hands grab the thing by the head and after fighting and struggling with it, the hands managed to jerk the monster's neck sideways and the sickening crack was as relieving as it was nauseating. The body slid off of Henry and into the water next to him and he laid there for a moment trying to get ahold of himself and his body. His ears throbbing with pain. </p>
<p>Walter’s hand was extended out to him and he took it after that moment of trying to figure out who and where he was. On his feet again he realized he was very wet and in alot of pain, glancing at Walter saw that acid had basically worked as mace or pepper spray, something painful, agonizing even but not wholly dangerous. Hopefully. Though Walter’s eyes looked swollen and painful and he was repeatedly trying to wipe tears out of them. </p>
<p>“Oh..oh god, are you alright?” Walter said eventually, his voice still calm, his concern still evident even as he was obviously in a lot of pain.</p>
<p>“Yeah I'm alright...can you see?” </p>
<p>“...mostly, it just-just burns.” Walter rubbed his eyes again and looked down and Henry’s arms evidently concerned, and Henry realized he was bleeding, a lot even, and he had no idea how he wasn't processing it. </p>
<p>“Are you-” before Walter could really ask, the monster whose neck he had snapped began to rise from the flooded apartment floor, and the two of them stared in abject horror while it snapped its neck back into place, turned to glare at them with it's huge bulbous eyes, and before the two men could react, pivoted on it's strange pointed little feet and scurried to one side of the room and began ripping the boards off the door. In half a minute it had managed to unbarracade said door and ram it's way inside, slamming it as it left. </p>
<p>The clock began ticking again. </p>
<p>“What the hell was that…” Henry said aloud to nobody in particular, maybe just the room itself, though he was still quiet as if to pay some respects to the dead man. He guessed he wasn't getting the knife back. He heard the fluttering of wings and they turned to watch the hundreds of moths flittering towards the now evierated empty corpse and began landing on it, covering him in a blanket of insects, a burial shroud of brown and gold wings. The two of them were silent as this happened. A loud creak startled them and the door on the other side of the one the creature had escaped to opened as if the wood blocking it off hadn't been there at all. </p>
<p>They both glanced at one another and made their way to the door, glancing inside was a strange scene. </p>
<p>It looked like an altar in the middle of the room on the wall facing them, out of it's way was a bed shoved off to the side with something, some body perhaps wrapped in a white sheet with blood stains gathered around the chest and between the legs. A dresser was also shoved to the other side full of knick knacks and pictures of women with their faces burned out. The altar was far more interesting. A hefty red book was propped up on it's side, there was the skull of what looked to be a dead animal of some kind opposite the book with all of the teeth knocked out, a headless gutted teddy bear sat near the book it's chest was covered in black goop, and a small statue of lady justice was settled next to the skull with its hands covered in blood. Candles were lit all around these items. A portrait of a young black haired woman holding a bloodied mass in her arms was the focal point of the altar, and in front of her there was a sheet of paper scrawled in that loopy lowercase cursive from the scribbling on the back of the newspaper article.</p>
<p>
  <em>please put us back together, complete us, you have the keys, i'm sorry to show you so much of myself</em>
</p>
<p>Henry wasn't sure what to do with this and when he turned around to talk to Walter about it, he noticed the blonde man intently staring at something on the wall. He gently touched the side of his coat, but he didn't seem to notice, so stepping to the side a little he followed the man's gaze to another portrait, not unlike the young woman at the altar, except this one was far more familiar. </p>
<p>“It's...it's you.” Walter said softly, and indeed, it was. There was nothing mistaking it, and as Henry stared at it, he felt a sudden panic, and rage. It was him, in beautiful oil paint, wearing something soft and black with a white sash of some kind around his shoulders, holding a lit candle in one hand, and the hefty red book in the other. Henry wanted to throw some sort of fit, but managed to remain calm in some way, until he glanced over at Walter and with more rage found an indescribable expression painted on his face as he stared at the portrait of the man victimized next to him. </p>
<p>“It's. me.” he said through clenched teeth. This seemed to open the floodgates of Walter’s mouth.</p>
<p>“You have the Crimson Tome here...so that must mean, you are here on purpose, just like...” he turned and very briefly looked at the portrait of the young woman but didn't linger, deciding Henrys was more interesting. Henry, fed up, bleeding and sick with fear and a headache, spun on his heel sloshing the water everywhere as he left the room, something about this made him ill and angry, he couldn't stand to be in the same room as the other man. </p>
<p>He didn't look at the body, he didn't look at anything in the room, and in his fit he slammed the door behind him. Out in the hallway he found he wasn't less angry, indisposed or scared, but he was out of the water, out of that room full of grief and pain. He was away from Walter. </p>
<p>Before he could really take a deep breath and try and collect himself, the door behind him opened and he could hear the slow steady footsteps behind him, ones that had begun to enrage him. </p>
<p>“Henry?”</p>
<p>“What?” he turned and glared at him, and the man flinched, looking fearful, but just for the moment, he didn't care.  </p>
<p>“What...what happened? I just...i just tried, i mean…” he stammered trying to explain himself, he clearly didn't understand what he’d done, and frankly Henry didn't really know either, he just felt angry and directed all of this blame at Walter. </p>
<p>“I don't care. I don't know what you did, or how you did it, but you...you <em>know</em> things, things you're..not saying. You…” he clenched his fists, “you haven't explained anything, you said you would and you didn't...not really.” His voice was nothing intimidating, but he knew it was cold, and that was enough to terrify the other man as evidenced by his expression and body language of nearly cowering.</p>
<p>“I don't know what i could...i mean, H-Henry i just don't want to drag you...any further into this than you already are…” he stammered, hands up in a gesture of defence. </p>
<p>“There is a painting of me on the wall after...after we got attacked by a monster that…”</p>
<p>“That looked alot like you. I know. I…” Walter stared at the floor, rubbing his forehead, Henry, though still very angry, felt that slight twinge of guilt, effectively sticking its foot in the door.</p>
<p>“I know, I know it concerns you, I knew you must be part of this but...but I didn't realize how much, I didn't know how ingrained you must be, with the Tome in that painting...it must mean something. And Henry I'm sorry, I'm sorry it means something.” and with that apology, the guilt that had been slowly trying to sneak in, effectively assassinated the anger that had been raging, begging to be shown attention and let out, futile as it had dissipated as quickly as it had come. Henry stared at the floor, and felt the cuts in his arms, and stabbing in his side, his drenched clothes and how tired he was, and all the rage was gone. </p>
<p>“...so what does it mean?” his voice was quiet, and empty and all he could do with his arms was to gestured outwards. </p>
<p>“I...i wish i knew, i want answers, i want to be able to...to give them to you but…i really can't.” Walter said and he sounded almost desperate, and so genuine the murderous guilt gave way to shame. </p>
<p>“...right. Well, what is this? I don't really think...I mean it's a dream world, you said that, but why...why did it come here…”</p>
<p>“It is...sort of a dream world i...i don't know how else to explain it, because it's not a usual sort of.. Otherworld, but it's not Nowhere either.” Walter could see that Henry didn’t understand in the slightest, and began to sort of clarify, his body language a little more relaxed. “Silent Hill...makes these sorts of things for people. But it usually doesn't involve this many people, it doesn't show others this..mish mash of worlds and places and monsters...i don't really understand what's going on i know that it's...doing what it does. But...i don't know why you're involved, i...i think i might know why some people are involved, why Eileen is, why...why Mr. Braintree is. But you...I can't make sense of you. Especially for you to be so important that there's a monster, a painting like the one of..of Alessa.” he shook his head, and though there was a lot of information there, Henry didn't know what to do with half of it, not to mention he hadn't really answered his initial question. Though he was fairly sure this was more Walter getting sidetracked then him avoiding it. Or he wanted to hope so. He almost seemed reverent of whoever Alessa was. </p>
<p>“Do you think it's Eileen's world? Or dream or..whatever it is?” he asked, trying to prompt something in him. </p>
<p>“No...no it's not her fault. It's not Mr. Braintree’s fault, or anybody else’s. I know, I think I know why it might be here.” Walter took a deep breath and stared at the floor, “it's...it's my fault. I don't know why I thought…” he shook his head, “it's...it's come here, because of me, because I was born here, in...these apartments. My, parents were here in this building when my mother gave birth to me, and...well i'm sure she had her reasons for leaving, maybe she was kidnapped or forced by him or maybe even drugged i can't be sure but... regardless, that's why i was adopted by the Orphanage, and that's why...it all seems to originate here. At this point in time because this is where it all started for me, and likely where I was always meant to end up.”</p>
<p>It was quiet for a moment while Henry pondered this, the insane coincidence that led to all of this, the unmistakable guilt Walter had for bringing the apparent curse of that town with him, the strange way he seemed to be trying to defend a mother he couldn't have known, almost like he was trying to convince himself of her innocence. All of the names and phrases he dropped before like a specialized academic using jargon no layman could understand, the apparent tone of respect something like an orphanage or whatever that crimson tome was held for him. There was no way in hell Walter was a normal person, not that Henry ever believed he was, but he was clearly more fucked up and mysterious than Henry had thought.</p>
<p>"..can you get rid of it?" He asked and Walter hesitated,as if he didn't really want to answer. </p>
<p>"...in theory yes, once it's done with me. It should leave." He stated, and something about how he phrased this was unnerving to Henry and he almost felt bad for asking. </p>
<p>"So what should we do?" </p>
<p>"The only thing we can do is continue down the path being set for us, and try not to die until we get there.” Walter’s voice was still soft, and yet empty. </p>
<p>Henry was silent, thinking this over, feeling his guilt and shame at getting even marginally angry. He hated anger, resented it's presence inside him, it's irrationality, it's ability to, in his mind, make him the monster everyone tried to emulate for him, the monster he was afraid to be, a monster deserving of being locked away and hidden. He turned the anger he had for Walter into shame, and pointed the metaphorical gun on himself.</p>
<p>Regardless, he figured the taller man, in all his nervous hand wringing and his expression of worry where his peaceful vacancy should go, was likely correct. Well, there wasn't any way for him to know, Walter knew much more than Henry did and frankly more than he wanted to know. Henry wondered if Walter intended on letting Silent Hill be ‘done with him’ soon, he wondered if he was a bad person for thinking it would be easier, likely he was, even if he didn't want that for him somehow. </p>
<p>“Okay. I guess we...I guess we should keep going then.” he said, and while Walter still regarded him with something like weariness he seemed somewhat relieved. </p>
<p>“Right...right. Henry we, I'm sorry but we should do something about your…” he gestured to his bleeding arms and only now did it occur to him that he had barely stopped bleeding, and that his clothes were definitely ruined for good. Not that he really thought he could keep him, but damn he didn't have a lot of clothes. The wounds as he looked at them weren't incredibly deep, he assumed they wouldn't scar, though the punctures in his sides felt a bit worse, he didn't think it was worth it to worry about, not like they had anything to clean or dress it, and he sure as hell wasn't letting Walter know about the pain in his sides. </p>
<p>“It's fine. It's not deep. Your eyes are fine right?”</p>
<p>“...yeah it stings but…” Walter frowned but didn't push, “it's not so bad.” </p>
<p>“I guess we should...go back and see what that puzzle means.” he shrugged, much as he didn't want to face the painting, he couldn't help the shame of being the reason they were out here in the body filled hallway instead of that room. Walter simply nodded and turned, the both of them walking back inside 208, Henry trying to repress his feelings again, determined to avoid another outburst. </p>
<p>The room had completely drained of the water, so that at the least was an upside, the body was still covered by the moths, though none of them were moving, and he could still hear the clock, and feel that heavy burden of grief in his chest. They both ignored the body as much as they could and made their way to the room with the altar again, nothing here had changed, the candles a little lower but otherwise it was just as it had been. Not that it made him feel much better.</p>
<p>Henry approached the altar, ignoring the painting of himself as much as he could and examined the note again, ‘complete us’ it said and it was hard for him to figure out what that must mean. All the items seemed unrelated, and he didn't know what the writer meant by this, he stared at the items, he supposed the only things that seemed out of place were the headless teddy bear and the skull without teeth. The empty holes in the skull were sort of unnerving, and then something occurred to him. </p>
<p>“Walter, do you still have those teeth?” he turned to the taller man and Walter frowned for a moment until he remembered and pulled the bag of teeth of one of his pockets, Henry grabbed the teeth and began to take them out of the bag and place them in the sockets of the animal head, guessing as to where they went but he must've gotten it right as they all fit perfectly. Maybe a little too perfectly. </p>
<p>A loud painfully squeaky creaking was heard, and the clock chimed ten times, the painting of the young woman in front of him slowly clicked upwards as if being pulled up from a string and out of a hole slid a key with paper wrapped around it. It looked just like one of Frank’s keys, and lo and behold when he picked it up he found 206 in his handwriting. Unfurling the paper, he was greeted with the cursive once more. </p>
<p>
  <em>He insists upon reopening the scars from the past, i'm sorry he's set his sights on you.</em>
</p>
<p>Whatever that meant Henry didn't know and he sure as hell didn't like it either, whoever he was he really didn't want to know, but it was starting to feel like they really were getting direct messages from people, this cursive person knew something but wasn't being direct about it for whatever reason. Irritating to say the least. </p>
<p>“Got a key....Jesus I don't like any of this. I guess we can get out of here though.” Henry commented and Walter nodded, he looked like he really wanted to stare at the portrait on the wall, but he shook it and the two of them hurried out of the room, trying to get out of the suffocating atmosphere as quickly as possible. </p>
<p>The hallway had changed some, less fleshy and more waterlogged and the carpet drenched, peeling wallpaper, though the bodies remained, pinned against the wall with spears through the legs, now pinned in spread positions. Both masculine and feminine in form. He glanced at the key and then at the door and then at Walter. They both wordlessly sort of approached 206 and Henry could hear the crying of children behind the door. Something about his fragile mental state and the crying of these children was scaring him, and he couldn't help what he said next. </p>
<p>“Walter...you can hear..hear them?”</p>
<p>“...yes. I can hear them.” His voice was quiet, but sort of soothing in a sense, calm, genuine. He didn't know if it made him feel better, but it told him he wasn't crazy. Or at least that he and Walter were the same level of crazy, he guessed that wasn't fantastic, but it was almost a comfort. Almost. </p>
<p>Henry fit the key into the lock and similar to before it snapped off in the lock and crumbled into sand in his hands. Neat. The door opened without anymore fanfare, and they stepped into yet another awful room. </p>
<p>It was that kids room he'd been inside before with Eileen, but much different now, he honestly hadn't really noted the room number, now the room was covered in writing, it had broken toys strewn across the floor, a TV with a hole punched through it, and a crib with what he was terrified to think was a real child, only to find that it was just a really realistic, disgusting looking baby doll. It was weirdly gray like it was dead or covered in ash, and the umbilical cord was still attached to it. The apartment smelled strongly of baked cookies but it was clearly an old smell and there was something off about it, he didn't know what though. He could still hear the whispering of children's voices but quiet. Looking around he noticed that the writing on the walls wasn't just scribbling, but rather words, phrases repeating over and over, the handwriting felt familiar. <em>please don't. Please let me out. I'll be good. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just wanted it to stop. I didn't like it. Please help me please…</em> none of these inspired much but nervous discomfort and he really tried not to think about what it could mean. He realized there was nothing in the living room, but he really didn't want to venture into the hallway. He glanced at Walter who was reading the walls with something like sickness in his expression, he was pale and shaking, but his face was blank.</p>
<p>“I don't...this room…” Henry mumbled but he didn't know what to say, Walter slowly turned to face him and he couldn't really decipher his expression.</p>
<p>“I don't think there's anything here, in the living room at least…” Walter’s eyes glazed around the room and fell on the infant in the crib, a visible shudder going through him. </p>
<p>“Should we look through the bedroom then?” </p>
<p>“I suppose so.” there was a pause and the two of them hesitated, until Henry squared his shoulders and walked down the halls, all but two of the doors were locked, the first one that was unlocked had scrawled writing on the door very similar to the note before, <em>family secrets</em>. Also not great, but what other choice was there. </p>
<p>Pushing the door open Henry found that the room might've been a master bedroom, though it looked like the bed had been pushed against the wall instead of being the centerpiece. The sheets were strewn on the floor and there was blood on them and some other smell that he couldn't quite place here, Walter who shuffled in after him seemed to notice it as well. On the wall were drawings of what looked like mouths and lips in strange colors and styles from something like classic paintings, or impressionism to the off putting scribbles of an insane person given a crayon. On one side of the room was an open sliding closet with a strange shadow covering in there and crying. </p>
<p>“This feels like…” Walter sighed, “I feel like I know this, recognize this somehow...but how could i?” he frowned and shook his head as he tried his hardest to rationalize it to himself. Henry felt the same awful feelings here as he had when he was in the Water Prison. It felt gross. </p>
<p>“Do you remember this?”</p>
<p>“No...that's just it…” he sighed deeply again, “i would remember it. I would remember something like this, I don't want to sound...I don't know, but I have a pretty good memory, and this is…I don't like it.” </p>
<p>“Me either. I don't know why we’re here…” he looked around and all he was sure of was the fact that he was uncomfortable and confused, still as he looked around he caught something under the bed, and when he knelt to reach for it he was almost ecstatic to see a what was apparently a first aid kit with the phrase ‘for your troubles’ written on a post it note by their ever so helpful guide. Opening it he was offered plenty of gauze and disinfectant and he waved Walter over to his spot on the floor, the other man looking just as grateful for this gift. There were even some stranger items in here Henry wouldn't particularly consider first aid, that seemed to be tailored to them specifically, what appeared to be eye drops and some sort of anti-inflammatory lotion both of which would surely help Walter with his eyes and that rash still coating his hands from the mushroom creatures in the city. </p>
<p>“Well well, someones looking out for us.” he commented picking up both and setting about applying them. </p>
<p>“I doubt it's a coincidence at least.” Henry agreed, leaving out that he wondered what the consequences for this would be, he couldn't worry about that when he now had the means to deal with his bleeding arms. Deciding he could mourn the loss of his sweater later, Henry ripped the sleeves off of it and the dress shirt up to the point where the monster had stopped shredding him, and began to clean the blood off with the antiseptic. He was grateful that Walter was too busy to notice the scars on his arms, not intending for the other man to know that much about him ever if at all possible. While it took up most of his forearms, he was sure there was enough gauze to go around should Walter really need it and he was grateful he didn't have to feel too guilty about using it. The blonde man seemed to feel much better, his eyes looked less irritated as did his face and hands as that acid must've irritated his face as well. It was nice to see him more cleaned up at the very least, and though his arms had begun to sting, and he decided he wasn't going to risk Walter knowing much so he ignored the pain in his sides, he was grateful if apprehensive of this mysterious gift, wondering what the penalty of it would be.</p>
<p>With that out of the way, Walter took to putting all the supplies in his pockets, as it would likely be easier to carry than the whole case, and the two of them decided they didn't want to know what other ‘family secrets’ this room held, heading back into the hall. </p>
<p>The second door didn't have any writing on it, only a strange circular marking that was too faded to make out, the room itself was mostly empty, a dirty pair of jeans stained with mud and more blood, and destroyed blinds, water leaking from the ceiling. The whole room was very water damaged for whatever reason and Henry noted that there was a hole in the wall, filling the room with water very slowly. In the center of the room was a small music box and a teddy bear, both items slowly disintegrating in the water like it was acid, he approached it and found a key around the bears neck that he snagged quickly to avoid losing it in the murky water, he didn't figure there was anything more in the room, and this odd metallic creaking like the building was straining under some weight or another  wasn't a comfort, him and walter nearly ran into one another as he was trying to leave the room and the taller man was trying to enter it. Henry just shook his head and showed him the key upon receiving his questioning stare. It was best to just get out of here as soon as possible. </p>
<p>“207, i dunno why it couldn't just unlock the doors if it's just gonna give us the keys anyways.” Henry said as the two of them made their way out of the apartment without anymore fanfare, both refusing to look at the crib, though Henry was almost positive the baby was gone, he didn't want to know for sure.</p>
<p>“It likes to lead people around, it likes to play games essentially. Shows you things it thinks you need to see before leading you to the next thing, we were meant to see that room, see what was in it, and now, were meant to see 207.” Walter said relatively matter of factly, Henry frowned but nodded anyways. He guessed that made some sense, even though it gave him the feeling of being watched and controlled by some unseen player in this ‘game’ as Walter phrased it. </p>
<p>Standing in front of 207, Henry didn't feel that same dread as before, but still hesitated. The key of course disappeared when he used it, and he wondered if these keys were even real, or if they were just some weird delusion. He guessed they couldn't actually be real of course, as far as he knew Frank’s keys weren't single use, but it still was strange. </p>
<p>The apartment was nothing special, except for all of the strange technology on shelves, and even a personal computer sitting on what seemed to be an office space except of course there was plenty of other more casual items here, cans of pop lying around, an old mug just labeled ‘coffee’ next to the keyboard, as well as a box of ‘Moon’s Donuts’ open and crawling with ants. the screen was on and a disturbing looking game appeared to be playing, or maybe it was just a bizarre screensaver, but it was stylized drawing of a grey dog that appeared to be eating the corpse of a woman in rags on a street corner, a wall behind them that looked to be something out of ancient japan with a dark sky above. There was a disgusting snarling and crunchy slurping of the dog eating the corpse coming out of the shoddy speakers. Trying to ignore this strange image Henry looked at the shelf with the TV and what he was pretty sure were game consoles stacked up around it, he recognized some of them, one he was fairly sure was a Playstation, and another that said Dreamcast on the grey little box that sounded familiar somehow, but all the others looked something like VCR’s with weird little controllers attached to it. Stranger still, was a ton of weights lying around, dumbbells and a huge exercise ball in front of the TV as if this person was sitting on it and playing video games at the same time. He wondered if that would help.</p>
<p>“Look at how many funny little computers this person has.” Walter said with some sort of childish joy in his tone, picking up a little handheld grey brick with a couple buttons on it and looking it over with interest. </p>
<p>“I've never even heard of half of these things.” Henry shook his head looking at some of them and then back at Walter who seemed slightly disappointed that the little game box didn't have any batteries. Setting it down he noticed something on the desk and reached over and grabbed it, in his hands were two little cassette tapes, he shook the ants off of them. </p>
<p>“Clues i assume.” he shrugged handing them to Henry, both of them were worn and faded but both were labeled, <em>skinned mike</em> and <em>missing persons</em> , neither of these were very thrilling but Henry guessed he could save it along with the other cassette tape and went to put them in his pockets. </p>
<p>“Seems weird to give me clues I can't really do anything with…” Henry shrugged a bit baffled, Walter didn't appear to have an answer either. </p>
<p>“I can't say. Like I said, something else about this is strange, it's not quite right because so many things here must be jumbled, I don't recognize a lot of this. And I have no idea what to make of that.” Walter stated picking up ants very gently and setting them on top of the computer monitor. Henry wasn't sure why he thought Walter would know anything, things were so bizarre he would be better off assuming nobody knew anything about this shit and go from there, but maybe he was just trying to get some more info out of him. Walter however, was guarded, or he really didn't know anything.</p>
<p>He glanced around and his eyes fell on a gold Zippo lighter lying on one of the game systems. It seemed out of place somehow, and he walked over to pick it up looking it over with interest. It was a damn nice lighter. Engraved with a hooded skeleton holding a sword and the words <em>AMICIS AD INFINITUM</em> he flicked it open and lit it, suddenly really wishing he had a cigarette to use it. He figured he could keep it and sort of hoped it wasn't a clue or anything, he'd always kind of wanted a really nice lighter like this and frankly it was just cool as hell. </p>
<p>Henry wandered down the hallway and found all the doors locked except one, but it wasn't super interesting, just a bedroom with what was effectively a cot with another smaller tv and another game console, (maybe a Nintendo?)  and even more weights along the floor. However the thing that didn't interest him was a small Walkman on the bedside table, decently new earbuds next to it and he realized they could use it to listen to the tapes. Scooping it and the earbuds up he hurried back to the living room to show Walter, only to find that he wasn't there anymore. The door was ajar and when he exited the apartment, he found the taller man staring at a set of stairs that most certainly hadn't been there before. </p>
<p>“What the hell...Walter?”</p>
<p>“It's...I heard a scream…” Walter glanced at him and then back at the stairs, the both of them paused and then heard another scream, one that sounded familiar and the two of them in a panic at the recognition, raced up the stairs to find themselves somehow on the third floor. Loud thumping and crashing came from behind room 303, all the strange gorey shit had been cleared away from the front of the door, a loud crunch could be heard from behind it as well as more screaming. </p>
<p>The two of them ran to the door and forced it open, eyes looking over the gorey scene in front of them as a bloody woman stood in front of them holding a baseball bat and a scowl.</p>
<p>“Don't move.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Video Killed The Radio Star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[We can't rewind, we've gone too far//Pictures came and broke your heart//Put the blame on VCR//Video killed the radio star]</p>
<p>It seems you've made a new friend</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lord, I've been doing more overnights again and had some writers block but hey! I'm back and ready to go.! Thank you all for your comments as always im glad to post again  &lt;3 stay safe</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wait, wait,” Walter’s hands were in front of his face nearly immediately, though the two of them were still likely pretty threatening to this woman, Henry was pretty sure he recognized her from somewhere but couldn't exactly worry about that while he was actively being threatened. On the floor between them was a bloodied body, his heart thumped in his chest quickly as he recognized her but before the three of them could say something the corpse melted with a disgusting slurping sound as it became grey and merged with the carpet, leaving the three witnesses standing in the bloodied doorway silently.</p>
<p>“Who the hell are you?” she demanded after a moment aiming the baseball bat at the two of them, and now that Henry got a better look at her he realized she was Eileen’s friend from the other day, now more haggard with bloody hands, dirty blouse and more blood on her jeans and nice looking flats. </p>
<p>“I'm-i'm Walter and this is, Henry. We just heard a sound like somebody was hurt…” Walter explained quickly and the woman paused, staring at the two of them for a moment as she seemed to recognize one or both of them.</p>
<p>“You're the neighbors right, you, Walter, you're Eileen’s friend?” Walter nodded and the woman relaxed a little, lowering her weapon and sighing, rubbing her shoulder.  </p>
<p>“First some monsters and now you two, not the type date I was hoping for.” she said something sort of joking in her tone, but clearly humor for the gallows. </p>
<p>“What….i mean uhm, what's your name?”</p>
<p>“Did she not tell you before?” the woman teased, “it's Cynthia, i was supposed to meet Eileen here but...i don't know something happened and everything suddenly turned into...this.” </p>
<p>“Did you...fall asleep or see a hole of any kind?” Walter asked her and she frowned at him incredulously. </p>
<p>“..no no hole, i didn't fall asleep either, if you're trying to tell me i'm crazy then you'll have to try harder than that.” Cynthia huffed a little and Walter looked a bit confused by this, and perhaps a bit worried. </p>
<p>“No i don't think you're crazy...i just..there's just some things i'm..i'm trying to figure out.”</p>
<p>“Like what? You know something about this?” she frowned and gripped the bat harder, and he looked a bit nervous. </p>
<p>“..yes somewhat, i promise this isn't...it isn't something i wanted to happen it just did.” Walter began and Cynthia frowned, her dark eyes flitting back between the two men, but she pondered this and then leaned on one leg, sighing. </p>
<p>“So you do know something, if you ask me I think you should, I don't know, let me in on this right?” </p>
<p>“Well, I can't tell you why you're here, but this is...effectively some sort of dream world, not that you are dreaming, but that we’re...in some other strange world. You're just caught up in all of this and I have no idea why you're caught up in it… you or Henry here..”</p>
<p>“Well that's very helpful thank you,” she rolled her eyes, the sarcasm dripping thick from slightly bruised lips. She looked like she wasn't interested in digging for information from him. </p>
<p>“Wait you've...seen monsters?” Henry interrupted as the thought occurred to him, “before this i mean…”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she said flippantly, “everyones seen a monster or two.” Henry couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Walter looked just as incredulous. </p>
<p>“What was in here before…”</p>
<p>“Don't worry about it.” she interrupted before Walter could finish, sounding somewhat curt now, she looked aggravated about it, turning her back to them and striding into the room, taking inventory of Eileen’s apartment. </p>
<p>“Well, what now hm?” she turned to look at them after her pointless examination, her eyes scanning the two men critically, lingering on the bandages on Henry’s arms and the blood in Walter’s hair. She could clearly see the haggard hell the two of them had gone through, he wondered if she would ask about it. He really didn't want to tell her, not really because it would be difficult to get into but there was something almost intimate in the horrors he’d seen both on his own or with Walter and Eileen and them separately. He wondered what she’d seen, wondered what the body on the floor was. He knew who it was mimicking, he hoped it was just a convincing replica. </p>
<p>“Well...we’re trying to find Eileen and, and then find a way to get out of here, we've been, several places and not found much in the way of a direction, we can't seem to find the real exit without losing her…” Walter sighed rubbing his hands and looking around the apartment, eyes slowly scanning the room but not taking much of it in, Henry recognized the glazed over look. </p>
<p>“Yes i’d agree that we need to find her, you two look like you've been hit by a truck so i assume splitting up is a bad idea.” she leaned on the bat rubbing her arm again, staring at the coffee table. “I figure you need a minute to sit through. I've seen outside of the room and I'm not thrilled about leaving so quickly.” </p>
<p>“I'm sure we could...this room seems sort of safe. For now.”</p>
<p>“For now?” she eyed the blonde man suspiciously and he just shrugged, a bit anxious again.</p>
<p>“Well...around here you never know…” </p>
<p>“...right.” Cynthia shook her head, she didn't say she thought he was insane, but Henry could surmise it from her tone regardless. “I'm going to clean some of this shit off of me, don't follow me.” With that she walked with a purpose back down to the hallway and he heard the door close and presumably lock behind her, leaving the two men standing in the hallway.</p>
<p>“She’s friendly.” Henry said and Walter, who seemed a bit lost, blinked and frowned until he seemed to realize it was some form of a joke. In his defence, Henry didn't have the energy or know how to change his tone. </p>
<p>“I wonder what she’d seen before…” Walter trailed off walking a little more into the living room, he looked vaguely uncomfortable to be here and Henry had to agree as the last time he'd been here, Eileen had invited him in.</p>
<p>“Well...i dunno what Cynthia is doing, or when she’ll come back…” he started and then Henry recognized that he was still holding the walkman.</p>
<p>“Maybe we could look over those clues, i found something we can play the tapes on.” he lifted it to eye level and the other man seemed a bit confused by it but nodded anyways, Henry pulled both tapes out of his pocket and suddenly found that he was apprehensive, like he didn't want to know what the tapes contained. He knew he had to, but something about them was sinister. </p>
<p>Then again, wasn't everything here?</p>
<p>Resting on the couch Henry looked between both tapes in his hands and tried to decide which was worth listening to first, he couldn't say he was super excited for either of them, though ‘Skinned Mike’ seemed far less palatable. Walter sat next to him and cocked his head in that familiar curious way and Henry busied himself plugging the earbuds in so he wouldn't have to decide, until the blonde picked them up and glanced between them, angling his body close so he could inquire into the same dilemma Henry was having. Henry, before he could say anything, spotted a penny on the carpet and scooped it up. Walter didn't seem to understand. </p>
<p>“Flip a coin for..which one we listen to first?” he offered and Walter nodded, now seeming to get it, “ok, uh..heads missing persons, tails...the other one i suppose.” he’d never been good at this, and it was reflected in him flipping it and then managing to drop it, the old dirtied coin bouncing out of his hand and against the table, when he found the damn thing nestled in the carpet, it was heads up. No arguments there. </p>
<p>“Missing Persons it is then.” Henry stated and set the penny on the table, not like Eileen would need it. He grabbed the cassette and one of the earbuds, handing the other one to the taller man, figuring it would be easier for both of them to listen to it at the same time. Walter looked like he was going to ask what to do with it until he saw Henry put it in his ear and mirrored him, it occurred to Henry it might've been nicer to explain it, but then again it seemed a bit condescending to explain. He hit play and heard the old sort of crackle of a cassette that had been recorded years ago, though it hadn't been played very much nor cared for in any capacity. Sound would cut in and out but there wasn't anything to be done about it. </p>
<p>A voice crackled in, deep and scratchy like an older man who smoked for years, he cleared his throat a few times before he spoke quietly into what might've been a microphone. </p>
<p>
  <em>ah, August fifteenth 19...not an official case really, just calling in a favor for...seems to be looking for…...disappeared almost six months ago, authorities presumed he died…..went missing with him, other suspicious activity around the time they went missing….bodies….nothing else was found. Car was…..</em>
</p>
<p>Here the audio changed ever so slightly, he could hear the clinking of glasses and murmuring and the moving of chairs before a second voice joined the first, this one much more familiar.</p>
<p>
  <em> “don't trip there, yeah steps outta wack i really gotta...anyways make yourself comfortable.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Thank you, Mr…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey, I told you before, don't bother with all that, just call me Frank.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Right well, can you tell me anything else about what happened? I hate to be so forward but...i gotta be honest the police don't know and really don't care and-”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“I told ya all i know really.”</em> Frank's voice was darker, <em> “you didn't find nothing did ya…”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“I'm sorry Frank really I tried, I searched way out from where they found...asked every local i could but nobody had seen anything....didn't even recognize the pontiac…whole damn town i looked i mean i know it's kinda big and there's some blid spots but...”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Liars no doubt. Someone had to see somethin right?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“In theory yeah but, in practice….he wasn't anything out of the ordinary, i hate to say it but i probably couldn't have picked him out of a crowd especially not with an older photo like you had...i'm sorry Frank but...truth is i doubt you'll find him…” </em>
</p>
<p><em>“Right. I dunno why I figured anybody would give a shit.”</em> Frank sounded curt. The other man sighed heavily.</p>
<p>
  <em> “listen, i'm really sorry, don't worry about anything, i'm doin a favor, for you and for...if it, helps at all i can sort of understand how ya feel, i uh..i lost my own….years ago….”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“Dunno why the hell that would make me feel better. Don't worry about it. Stupid piece of shit probably….” </em> the other man made a sort of surprised sound, whatever Frank had said there must've been in poor taste as he sounded both baffled and a little angry. </p>
<p>
  <em> “well hey maybe but, hell no reason to assume the worst….you don't sound like you're all that, y'know sorry he's gone…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well y'know what, He can go to hell for all I care. Useless...yknow what he might as well have ended up in a ditch...”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“...i don't think that's true, i don't think you feel that way for a second.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What the hell do ya mean?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well. you called me didn't you? If you didn't care-”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“I don't. Forget it. Thanks, for tryin, but i'm done worryin about it stupid f…. probably……. Himself…” </em> Frank had muttered under his breath through the static and the other man's grunt of disapproval was much more poignant this time. </p>
<p>
  <em> “no need for that. Look Mr. Sunderland, I'm sorry. I tried my best. I uh, I think i'll get going.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah you should.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Right. I'm gonna say my, goodbyes i guess to…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Whatever you need to do, don't hang around in the halls though.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“...if you need anything else, let me know. Have a good night Mr. Sunderland.” </em>
</p>
<p>The tape skipped a few times as they heard the door close and a moment later the last few seconds of the tape played. </p>
<p>
  <em> “well, that all was a crock of shit...uh, i guess that's a closed case for now, nothing much else i can do since he doesn't want to pursue it further, christ. Between me an this recording, i wouldn't blame the guy if had run off for good…” </em>
</p>
<p>The tape ended there and Henry glanced up from his lap where he'd been staring, taking in the conversation as best as he could. He had no idea who this man was, or who Frank was looking for, but nevertheless it unnerved him slightly, and made him sad more than anything. Frank had lost someone, and wasn't able to find them. Whatever he felt about the aging Superintendent, the idea that he was alone and had been for quite some time was depressing. </p>
<p>“What do you think of that?” Walter mumbled as Henry took the cassette out and held it.</p>
<p>“I wonder...I wonder who Frank lost…”</p>
<p>“Yeah, though it doesn't sound like...well he doesn't sound all that nice…”</p>
<p>“No. I guess he was angry that, cop i guess couldn't help him but...I wonder what he said..all those parts that are cut out...it feels like it was on purpose somehow.” Henry explained and Walter nodded sagely.</p>
<p>“That wouldn't surprise me. It's something from the dream after all, it doesn't want us to know everything.”</p>
<p>“Is it even real then? If it's a dream…”</p>
<p>“Well, what is real exactly?” Walter said very unhelpfully, Henry just blinked, “it's as real as anything else, whatever that even means, it does exist now, and is tangible, we can interact with it, so for now, it is real. Later, it might not be.” </p>
<p>“...okay. Well i guess i meant...do you think this is a conversation that, that Mr. Sunderland actually had?”</p>
<p>“Oh, right well yes i, i would assume so. There's no reason to think it didn't at least, though that makes me wonder if Mr. Sunderland is involved somehow….” Walter murmured the last part, his vague embarrassment dissipating when he pondered the nature of Frank’s inclusion in this, though this confused Henry.</p>
<p>“Why would he be involved?”</p>
<p>“It's...it's hard to say. I still don't know why you're here, why Miss Cynthia is here, i figured they must all have a connection to me in some way, but you, her, and if he's involved i mean, i just met all three of you recently…” Walter frowned, tapping his fingers against his knee while he tried to parse this out. Henry wasn't sure what he thought about that, he was right that Frank, Cynthia and himself had nothing to do with Walter, then again, something occurred to him.</p>
<p>“...you said you were born here right? In the..in these apartments?” he offered tentatively, Walter paused, his face a little strained but he nodded.</p>
<p>“Yes but why?”</p>
<p>“Well, i mean, Mr. Sunderland has been the Superintendent for..i dunno at least forty years, probably more, and you’re...uh i dunno not older than that right?’’</p>
<p>“..no no i'm twenty-four, so he was the Super when i was born but what does that have to do with it?”</p>
<p>“I mean, if you were born here then, he likely would have been the one to...rent the room to your parents right? And maybe the one to give you to that orphanage right?” Henry explained and as he spoke it seemed to dawn on Walter what he was saying, what he was implying. </p>
<p>“So he very well might have some connection. He...i was told that when i was born in..born here that i was taken to a hospital and adopted from there. He must've been the one to do that…” Walter frowned as he considered this, and though Henry had suggested it, the idea was now hitting him a little as well. That Walter in a sense owed the first precious moments of his life, and thus the rest of it as well, to the aging slightly senile superintendent of the apartments they happened to live in. </p>
<p>“I wonder if...if some of this has something to do with him...his, well whatever happened to the person that he was looking for, I mean with that connection to me, i feel like some of this reasonably could be his, parts of his nightmares or past...” Walter murmured, “i suppose, so far it's mostly just been mine, i couldn't say if Eileen or, or Mr. Braintree have seen anything themselves, but so much of this doesn't really apply to me…” </p>
<p>“So you think it could be, some of his because he lives here?”</p>
<p>“Very likely, it seems like he had some pain associated with this place, just as I do, and perhaps that's why it's so...strange, maybe, maybe those “family secrets” are him. I can't be sure, and i certainly don't think it's wise to ask him but the point stands.” Walter stared at the ceiling as he said this, working it out and as he said it, he seemed to take his own words to heart. </p>
<p>“It might be...at least this is, well i don't know if it's helpful but it is a clue. I dunno why...i'm sure you don't know but, at least that's something…”</p>
<p>“Yeah...there was another one right?” Walter sighed and Henry reached for it, and remembered that there was a third cassette as well, but decided to leave that for later, it wasn't important when they had to deal with something called ‘Skinned Mike’ to deal with. The plastic felt sort of sticky when he put it into the walkman. </p>
<p>It played nothing but static and what was likely male grunting and distant swearing, a gunshot, and then loud agonizing screaming. Before, a different, familiar voice could be heard.</p>
<p><em>“What the fuck did i tell you about walking around on this floor? What did I tell you about bothering her? Are you deaf? Do you need me to fucking spell it out for you? I thought kicking your ass was enough but i guess not!” </em> </p>
<p>The other voice was quiet and angry and bitter but was interrupted by a yelp of pain and what sounded like a blade of some sort being unsheathed from a harness. </p>
<p>
  <em> “wait..wait don't c'mon...this.this is insane you can't-” </em>
</p>
<p><em>“You ever seen skin slide off a body before? Peeling it like a fruit, it's sensual, this beauty works damn well on deer, I wonder what it does to pigs?” </em> The man's voice was silky smooth and sinister as the other man continued to plead. </p>
<p>His cries went unheeded. And the screaming grew louder and more agonizing to listen to, like the person was suffering beyond words, some disgusting wet sound and muffling of the man's screaming by some cloth or another. It dragged on and on, and Henry was white knuckling his jeans, nails digging into his skin while he listened to the hellish agonized screaming in between whatever the gag in his mouth had been, he heard something like metal hitting something it shouldn't and another howl of agony loud enough that the gag was barely doing it job. </p>
<p><em> “YOU WANNA ACT LIKE A FUCKING PIG? WELL I'M GONNA TREAT YOU LIKE ONE!” </em> the assaultant screamed, rustling and the sound of skin hitting both skin and tile flooring, and then a horrid gurgling sound and what was likely thrashing, choking and sputtering while the other man panted heavily. It was agonizing to listen to, a good forty five seconds of that awful choking and something like a half connected scream, it didn't get all the way through. </p>
<p>The silence somehow was worse. Another minute of suspense filled quiet, ragged breathing, and then something between a shaky laugh and a sob. </p>
<p>
  <em> “shit.” </em>
</p>
<p>“Found any nice music?” the voice next to his ear made him jump out of his skin, and when he whipped around, heart in his throat, he saw Cynthia looking like she was enjoying how startled he was. It also appeared like she’d cleaned some of the blood off of her, possibly even put on makeup to, albeit poorly, hide some of the bruises. She was holding the bat still, though it looked like she'd tried to clean the blood off of her clothes, her hair, which had been relatively messy before had been straightened up to a degree. How she could care about her appearance right now he had no idea. At the very least it was just her though.</p>
<p>“You scared me…” </p>
<p>“Aww sorry.” she replied standing up fully and gently patting the top of his head almost condescending in tone. He decided not to get annoyed at that as best as he could as he was still scared out of his mind and disgusted by what he’d just heard. Turning to Walter he saw that the man’s already pale face had turned something like sheet white, he looked nearly dead, yet his expression was completely blank, empty and his eyes were dark and soulless in a genuinely scary sort of way. Henry couldn't blame him.</p>
<p>“What did you find in those?” she pointed at the cassette tapes but Henry just immediately shook his head. </p>
<p>“It's not...it's, i don't know how to explain it's just...bad…” He spoke as steadily as possible, and between him and Walter he had the idea that he wasn't supposed to talk about what was in this tape, he was sure she’d believe them but he didn't want to subject another person to it, it seemed cruel. </p>
<p>“Helpful. Keep it between yourselves then.” she shrugged, he doubted she was all that interested, frankly she didn't seem to care for the two of them, certainly nothing exactly told him this, the idea was still implanted in his mind like a worm of dissent. </p>
<p>“We need to find a way out of here.” Walter stood, his voice quiet and resolute, devoid of any emotion, much like his face. Cynthia looked a little put off by this, and Henry felt it as well even with the context of the tape. He stood as well, guessing that the fact the woman having the weapon between the three of them was probably comforting to her at least. He hoped she wouldn't run off. </p>
<p>“Well at least you're finally making some sense.” she scoffed a little, he didn't react. Walter and Cynthia began to walk to the door, and Henry simply packed up the tapes, unsure of what he should do with the walkman but ultimately deciding it wasn't something he needed, even as he remembered the third tape he guessed he could deal with that later, there wasn't anything that was nagging him about it. So leaving it behind on the couch he briefly wondering if it would theoretically show up in the real world.</p>
<p>He went to follow them as they had already opened the door and left the room but something on the floor nestled between the carpet and the wall caught his eye. Henry approached it and knelt down looking around until he managed to locate the object, lifting it with his finger and thumb to find a green, diamond shaped glass earring. Something about it was enticing, or interesting to him somehow, he wasn't sure why, until he turned it slightly and found something that looked like numbers carved into it. Squinting and frowning he managed to make it out after a moment. </p>
<p>3/5</p>
<p>It seemed like he had found one of the clues they were looking for, and he couldn't help the feeling that they were being led along this horrible little funhouse carnival ride, and though he was slightly glad to be getting clues, he was also sure he hated the idea that they were being toyed with. Straightening up he slipped it in his pocket, full as they were, and wandered out after his two companions.  The two of them were staring at the staircase that Henry and Walter had come from, and when he came closer he found that somehow, the room below them had become completely filled with what could only be described as an inky sludge, it smelled like glue and seawater. </p>
<p>“I wonder how high the insurance on this will be.” Cynthia commented as Walter knelt down and, for some reason, touched the substance, and then viably shuddered, ripping his hand out of the ooze and shaking it aggressively. The sludge seemed to be too sticky to get it off like this and he grimaced while Cynthia gave him a look like he'd just grown another head. </p>
<p>“Well there must be something we have to do on this floor…or we have to go another direction.” he stated as he stood back up and unsuccessfully tried to rub the goo off of his hands.</p>
<p>“You don't say.” as much as he didn't care for it when directed at himself he had to admit there was something kind of fair in the attitude she was taking with all of this. He had to wonder how she was taking it so well though, in fact she was acting like nothing was wrong as the gore along the walls and the blood soaking the bat she’d used to kill the monster was held on her side. Yet she stood there like nothing was all that bothersome to her, just mildly annoying or fairly disgusting.</p>
<p>Henry looked around the hallways and then eventually noticed something underneath room 302, bright red and eye catching. He wandered closer and found that it was some sort of slip of paper, ones that looked familiar and though he really didn't want to hear from Joseph of all people, he guessed he didn't have much of a choice, when did he fucking ever. That said when he reached for the paper there was a slight “fwip!” and as if the paper had been yanked away by someone on the other side of the door, it was gone. Henry just stared at it, getting more irritated as he processed what had just happened. It was when he noticed his two companions looming over him that he realized they likely also saw this buffoonery. This didn't make him feel better and in fact kinda made him feel stupid.</p>
<p>“Gotta be quicker than that.” Cynthia chuckled and he sighed standing again, her jokes weren't helping. Walter looked like he was going to say something but before he could there was a knock on the door. Turning to it again, Henry hesitated unsure of if he was just hallucinating again, until he heard three knocks on the other side in rapid succession. Hesitantly, Henry reached his hand out and repeated the knocking. One, two, three, and the person or presence on the other side of the door mirrored it again. They played this game back and forth a few more times until Henry could tell that Cynthia was getting annoyed and frankly he was certain they weren't exactly spelling anything out in morse code, unless they were just repeating the same letter over and over. Not helpful.</p>
<p>Instead of knocking again he tried the doorknob, heard a strange giggle, and the damn thing came out of the door, slipped out like someone going out the end of a water slide. He stood there holding it baffled and watched the door seem to grow a new knob out of thin air. Neat, he guessed. The knob in his hand appeared to be made of something like clay and Henry realized his fingers were sinking into it, on a whim began pulling the strange substance off of some sort of object. Once he removed a sizable chunk of the clay, he found that it was a key, a very dirty one, but a key nonetheless. He kept trying to scrape it off but it wasn't doing all that much. </p>
<p>“Are we in fucking Disneyland?” Cynthia seemed to find her voice after watching this all go down and he realized he was taking this weirdly well at this point, he guessed this was in fact likely her first round of complete horseshit and he couldn't blame her. </p>
<p>“Disney land?” Walter questioned her and Henry saw her out of the corner of his eye that she looked a little confused, but wasn't paying much attention as he was still trying to scrape off the mud to hopefully figure out whose key this was, it looked alot like his own house key. </p>
<p>“Y’know the amusement park in Florida? Happiest place on earth?” she tried to explain but Walter didn't seem to get it, unsurprising to Henry but probably not to Cynthia. </p>
<p>“Like Lakeside?”</p>
<p>“Well..i've never been but i sure as hell hope it's better than Lakeside.” she chuckled, “cuter mascots too. Then again, the magic kind of gets overblown.”</p>
<p>Before they could continue Henry managed to make the numbers on the key visible and held it out in front of them, interrupting their conversation and then feeling a little warmer as they both gave him their versions of a weird or confused look.</p>
<p>“It's uhm...it's room 301’s key…” he explained quietly lowering his hand, he was saved some of the embarrassment as Walter suddenly looked uncomfortable. </p>
<p>“I see…”</p>
<p>“Well we’ve got a direction then.” Cynthia nodded and rested the bat on her shoulder, either not noticing or not caring how much Walter was shuffling on his feet and looking nervous. “Let's get out of here, i hope Eileen’s around, you two are a riot certainly, no hard feelings.” she began walking towards Walter’s room. </p>
<p>“Wait, wait..” Walter strode over very quickly, cutting her off a little further than halfway there, he looked really unnerved and almost panicky, Henry couldn't blame him but he was extremely curious, morbidly perhaps but even still. Walter looked so unnerved that it told him there had to be something behind those doors he was hiding. Cynthia on the other hand wasn't taking this at face value. </p>
<p>“Wait for what? We have the key?” She gestured to the side looking annoyed. </p>
<p>“I...listen it's...i, it's my room and i don't…” he began to stammer and she interrupted. </p>
<p>“You have something in there to hide?”</p>
<p>“Well…”</p>
<p>“Listen, Walter right? I don't care about any of your baggage or hang ups about any of this. I'm tired, bloody, i've seen some insane shit in the past hour or so, and I want to find my friend and get the hell out of here.” Cynthia explained, very seriously, none of the tone she’d had before with the light hearted almost teasing tone, she sounded haggard and angry and Walter sort of shrunk away from her. “So we're going to go into your room and figure out what we need to do there alright? I'm not interested in staying longer than I have to, believe me. Does that make sense?”</p>
<p>“...i...i...yeah, i uhm...right i understand.” He whispered and her demeanor became somewhat more amicable. There was a tense sort of silence before Henry approached tentatively and the two of them looked over seeming to remember that he was here at all, and all three of them silently turned and walked slowly to Walter’s door, 301 loomed ahead, all six of the chains connected at one section in the center of the door, rusted and imposing. With a deep breath Henry took the key and pressed it into the lock.</p>
<p>The chains collapsed onto the ground around them, kicking up a lot of dust around them and the door slowly creaked open, the key dissipated in his hands and Henry was sure he could hear a clock chiming in the distance. </p>
<p>It seemed it was time to enter 301.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Scentless Apprentice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[I lie in the soil and fertilize mushrooms //Leaking out gas fumes are made into perfume//You can't fire me because I quit//Throw me in the fire and I won't throw a fit]</p><p>a trick of the hand and a slip of the blade</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaaa yeesh been having some issues. but no worries ill try ti get the next chapter out in less than 12 days hopefully. thank you all for your patience, comments and interactions on this fic. thank you sm &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the smell that hit him first, something foul like ammonia and yet almost sweet but not in any sort of pleasant way. It was nearly overpowering, and he grimaced as he entered, the whole room felt dingey, hot and stuffy like a cramped camper abandoned in july in the swamp, the place looked like a moneyless drug filled hell house, he was sure he’d been in a house like this before, but only for the promise of free drugs or alcohol. He didn't have a specific memory but he was sure it was in there, he didn't care to search for it though. There was only a tv on a stand, a fold out table and a torn up computer chair that was stained and bent oddly. The room was barren other than that, the carpet an awful clumpy texture of never having been washed, there were empty soda and beer cans around, the most prominent thing that caught his eye in the dim, barely lit room, were the stacks and stacks of pornography, all around the TV and on the table, against the walls and a handful thrown on the kitchen counter near the garbage, Henry figured it would be efficient to get rid of the evidence there, though gross to do it near where food would theoretically be prepared. There were VHS tapes around as well but much less of them. </p><p>Somehow, this wasn't what he’d been expecting.</p><p>“Ugh, well i can see why you didn't want us in here.” Cynthia wrinkled her nose in blatant disgust, “smells like c-”</p><p>“It's not mine.” Walter interrupted somewhat defensively, his face had reddened and Henry wondered what she was going to compare it to, Walter seemed to know at least. </p><p>“Oh it's not, is it?” she crossed her arms as she’d set the bat against the wall, still rocking on her feet and appearing discomforted with the atmosphere but not so much she didn't want to make fun of Walter. </p><p>“It isn't. I don't live here like this, and i don't know what..or whose...those are.” he gestured quickly at the porn, looking down as though he was ashamed somehow, not exactly helping his case. </p><p>“Buddy if it were just a few of the dirty magazines i don't think anyone would do more than poke a little fun, but this is just sad, more than sad even, I'd say borderline pathetic.”</p><p>“Somethings not right.” Walter insisted, seeming really upset to be accused of this, there was something halfway childish about his tone of voice that was almost comical if it weren't so strange. Henry, who had sort of tuned this out, looked around trying not to immediately judge Walter on this as something really didn't feel right here. There was a scribbled note lying among the various magazines, and Henry decided he didn't want to touch it but could, with some difficulty make out the words while Cynthia snickered and Walter tried to say something to defend himself again. </p><p>“It's not the same apartment.” Henry said and the two of them stopped talking. “Or..it's the same apartment but, the time is wrong...or something like that.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Cynthia asked rather skeptically, waving a hand outward.</p><p>“This note here.” Henry glanced over at them and then squinted trying to read it aloud. “It's got a date, October fourteenth of last year, months before you moved in. this must be the old tennents room, or how he had it when he lived here.”</p><p>“That makes sense.” Walter looked relieved, but Cynthia most certainly did not, in fact she looked more confused than ever. </p><p>“Explain how the hell that makes any sense.”</p><p>“It doesn't really. But there's some mail here, looks like a check of some kind so the dates are right. Probably.” Henry said, “we must be in...Mike's apartment.” </p><p>“Mike...who the hell is Mike?”</p><p>“He uhm..used to live in the apartments here, moved out, uh..i'm not sure exactly when, i guess november or december. He lived here for years, I dunno how old he was….maybe mid thirties, fourties…” Henry realized this wasn't at all helpful and shook his head, “well...anyways he was a weirdo.”</p><p>“Clearly. If this is, somehow, his room.” she glanced around, Walter seemed to be much calmer now that he wasn't being accused of being a pervert festering alone in filth, Henry guessed he could understand that, and was now tentatively walking around the room and trying not to touch the walls. Henry wanted to doubt they had actually been as off colored and strangely wet in real life, but he wasn't about to hold his breath. Or maybe he was, the air was foul enough to poison somebody. </p><p>Henry walked around the room himself until he glanced down the hallway, wondering if it was worthwhile or a good idea to go into any of the rooms, he saw that the door to what might've been the bedroom open, but he wasn't all that interested in exploring Mike’s sleeping arrangement himself. Cynthia on the other hand appeared a little too disturbed by some of the porn on the table, and began peering around the hallway as if that would be better somehow. When she made her way in that direction he decided to follow her, if only just in case she found something, a monster or god forbid a puzzle. Walter was busy muttering to himself over in the corner, staring at the wall intently and he figured he wasn't going anywhere for a while. Certainly he was interested in catching Walters’s little slip ups, but he figured Cynthia could use the company. </p><p>She made her way into the room, and it appeared to indeed be a bedroom, there wasn't any light except from the hallway, a dinky metal frame for a twin sized bed but there was no mattress or blankets. A small dresser and the floor, more stacks of pornography, it seemed like Mike had a pretty significant problem, not that he was eliciting any sympathy from Henry as he saw what appeared to be a photo of a nurse plastered on the wall, she looked to be beginning to undress herself so he had to assume this photo, however it was taken, was taken without her say in the matter. Cynthia scowled at this and Henry, as he was closer, reached for it and pulled it off the wall, Cynthia frowned, dubious until he crumbled it up and tossed it over on the other side of the room. It wouldn't do any good, not any real good anyways, but he figured neither of them wanted to look at it. With that she glanced down at an open magazine on the bed frame, approaching it, hand outstretched rather tentatively as she picked it up and Henry was baffled by this until he noticed that it wasn't porn, but some innocuous gossip magazine. Odd.</p><p> Odder still was that under where the magazine had been lying was a picture, once again nothing in the realm of bad just weird. Weird because it was an old photo of Frank. Picking it up gingerly and examining it he found the, here much younger, super with his arm around a woman, it was dated 1962, surprisingly Frank’s face was fully visible and he was smiling, squeezing the woman tight to his side as she was leaning in close, her face however had been cut out of the picture in a heart shape, like a locket. Henry wondered if this was Frank’s doing, there was nothing obscene in a heart shaped picture as, though her chest was covered it wasn't even in the cut out picture. It was sort of funny or even bittersweet to see Frank looking somewhat young, maybe his early thirties, and so happy, hell he'd never seen Frank wear anything that wasn't golf sweaters and loafers, he looked like he’d once been relatively strong and fit. It was kind of strange to imagine he once had been not significantly older than Henry, or even his own age and younger, that he didn't just pop into existence at age seventy with white hair and a bad back. At one point he had a family, Henry wondered what had happened to them. Why did Mike have this? Or was it some sort of manifestation? He wasn't sure but looking up he saw Cynthia deep in thought as she was reading the magazine. He had to wonder if this was the best time to be worried about second hand gossip in a shitty tabloid. </p><p>“This is interesting…” she said after she caught his eye and gestured to the magazine. “Something about an orphanage in SIlent Hill, raising children in some strange cult it seems. Or as this guy says a ‘heathen organization’ whatever that means. Strange that this guy has it considering his other, reading material.” </p><p>“Hm...yeah…” Henry frowned confused as to why this was here until she handed it to him, and he began to see the connection. An article talking of children in the woods saying weird prayers and crying, sounded familiar,  a cylindrical tower, he shuddered at the thought, and something about a cult known as The Order. Very original name. <em>It's a religion that is deeply interwoven with Silent Hill's history. But its worshippers' fervent belief that they are among the elite "chosen people" has a dark and dangerous side.</em> this stood out somehow, he wasn't sure what exactly but he felt like he had the pieces of a puzzle, but couldn't yet put them together, something about this and Silent Hill had a connection to something he’d been told, but it seemed he'd forgotten. all of this immediately was irrelevant when he saw the name of the author of the article. His very own unwelcome roommate himself, Joseph Schreiber. He searched for a date and found a smudged one that he made out to be 1999, a little over two years ago. Joseph had written this two years ago, written about this orphanage, a cult in the orphanage, and he had to wonder what this had to do with anything, until he began to really think about, and his head began to hurt. </p><p>He tried to reread the passage, and didn't find anything different, no insight into what it could mean, the pain in his head was getting unbearable and he pressed the palm of his hand into his temple as his ears were ringing while he insisted on reading it again. The words turning into mush in his brain while he tried to bypass the throbbing in his skull like his heartbeat had migrated and was trying to push all his blood to places it wasn't supposed to be. His legs felt shaky and cold and before he knew it he was blacking out. As he slowly slipped to the nasty floor beneath him he heard the whirring of an engine of sorts. Dread weighed on his shoulders almost physically, an awful feeling covered his body like pinpricks of skin falling asleep, anxiety was an understatement but there was really no other word for it, concentrated pure fear. </p><p>“Henry?” he didn't hear anything else after that, the rush in his ears was hot and feverish and he couldn't see his surroundings. His vision was obscured by what he couldn't only have described as a visual soup of blood and rot. He couldn't breathe, it felt like a heavy weight was planted firmly on his chest, a sensation like his cheeks were being caressed by leather gloved hands, tilting his head up, but he couldn't see who was cupping his face, it was less affectionate and more contemplative, like his head was being appraised for it's value or use. He still didn't know why this was happening. Not while he felt so far away from his body that was currently shutting down even though he could feel it. He heard a deep raspy voice, that ancient, cold voice that felt like it was speaking in the void he was currently in. echoing off of nothing. </p><p><em> you are learning well, Receiver. The blockage in your mind is clearing slowly. Soon you will be prepared for more. Prepared to see everything I have to show you. Prepared to see yourself.</em> </p><p>The voice dissipated, as did the feeling of hands on him and he slowly found himself in his body again, he was freezing and feverish at the same time and could just barely breathe. He held his eyes closed for an amount of time he couldn't be certain of, it felt like a few minutes. His head was killing him. He'd often heard phrasing of a headache being compared to being hit with a hammer, and only now did he really feel that in full force. It wasn't just being hit, someone was intent on cracking his skull open like a walnut, and they were really pissed about something. </p><p>“Henry?” The voice that greeted him was confusing at first until he remembered who Cynthia was, and when he opened his eyes he found her knelt close by him, his back was set firmly against the dresser like he’d been propped up here, or fallen into place, honestly he couldn't remember. </p><p>“Hey…”</p><p>“What the hell happened?” Cynthia gestured outward baffled, if Henry wasn't mistaken she sounded sort of concerned. Weird. Regardless he took a deep breath to try and steady himself and ignore the continued pounding in his head. </p><p>“Uhm...headache.”</p><p>“Oh is that all?” she sighed a bit exasperated, now he wasn't the best at this but he was pretty sure she was being sarcastic here, even while he was delirious. </p><p>“Well...more than that but. It's fine now.”</p><p>“Right. Sorry for asking.” she huffed and stood, and he just shrugged, trying to gather his thoughts, the visions were starting to scare him, that one wasn't a dream, in fact it felt more like he simply had a brief conversation with someone, or something. Something only he could see. He was used to things like this at this point, he'd seen and heard things of this sort before, he was sure of it. </p><p>Come to think of it, this was the first time he had remembered this fact in a long time. He couldn't remember the specifics, but he was positive it was true. Some recollection bubbling under the surface, these memories hidden under a thick, dense blanket like he was purposefully covering it in a mask. He tried to dig something up from under the earth of his subconscious, but he couldn't seem to find a lead in his cache of recollections. Why was this familiar? It was going to bother him. It hurt to dig even as he wanted to know.</p><p>But it wasn't the most pressing issue at the moment. </p><p>“There's...there's gotta be something in this magazine….”he said after a moment, managing to get himself to his feet again while she with her arms crossed over her chest, tapped her fingers against her arms, staring off into the hallway before he spoke, and raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Why’s that? It's just some old article, in a random magazine in this little slice of hell. I hardly think it's important.”</p><p>“No...it's gotta be,” Henry shook his head as he flipped the pages, scrutinizing everything as much as possible, not helping his continued headache, “there's...puzzles here. Clues…”</p><p>“Puzzles?”</p><p>“Yeah...riddles..”</p><p>“Riddles. Like some sort of video game.” she sarcastically suggested and Henry just stared at her blankly.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Nevermind, lord you're just as bad as Walter.” she shook her head and he felt a little hot, even though he was still feverish. </p><p>“Maybe like a...fairy tale or something...i dunno..”</p><p>“Right, whatever you say. Regardless, why would that be helpful in any way.”</p><p>“Uhm...well when we, we solve these puzzles usually it lets us, move forward I guess. Keep going forward..or downward…” he mumbled, not sure what overcame him with the little addition but it seemed relevant, and he wasn't paying much attention as he kept flipping the pages until a small red slip of paper fell out of it onto the floor. Blinking, his brain managed to catch up and he knelt down and scooped it up, looking it over with curiosity. </p><p>
  <em> “Be then released from the bonds of the flesh, and gain the Power of Heaven.” that's what it says, i don't know what it means, scrawled on my walls, ink in my skin. I can't see an end to the misery, I don't know what I've done, I don't know if my God is a cruel joke. A farce, a child's comfort in the face of insurmountable pain and suffering. The God I have begged praises and answered to for fifty-five years wouldn't create such abominations just to hurt me. I see the worst days of my life played in front of my eyes like a picture show of nightmares, all i know is i might die here, and the creature doing this to me is laughing in my face, it doesn't speak, but i know it is scrutinizing me, trying to determine if i am worthy. I don't know if I want to be worthy. Perhaps ill…..<br/>
I don't usually condone pity, but I hope anyone reading this spares me some of theirs.<br/>
-Joseph Schreiber<br/>
4/5 </em>
</p><p>Henry stared at it for a good moment but it didn't change. Evidently this was one of the items they needed, that said they only had three, until something occurred to him and he pulled the lighter out of his pocket, staring at it with some scrutiny until he flicked it up and on the inside of the cap until he found the 2/5 scratched into it. He guessed that was a good thing, he didn't have strong feelings except that it meant they were making progress and progress was good regardless. </p><p>“Planning some arson?” Cynthia frowned and he realized he was just standing there with a piece of paper and a lighter and not saying anything as he read. Henry sighed and tried to explain what he was thinking. </p><p>“There's a puzzle downstairs, to get into the Super’s room so we can, I dunno talk to him I guess. Maybe he’ll know something, or Eileen will be there, or at least he won't be in danger with more people around...he's just an old man.”  </p><p>“One of your famous little riddles hm. What kind of puzzle?”</p><p>“Some kind of poem...it said we needed five items of some kind to open the gate. We have four of them.” he gestured to the lighter and paper, she considered this and then nodded.</p><p>“Alright. That seems pointless and a little stupid but whatver we have to do to get the hell out of here.” he nodded and she glanced with distaste at the room, “ you're superintendent really let him live like this for years?”</p><p>“I guess so.” Henry shrugged, “I mean...Walter said something about it not quite being...i dunno literal? I don't really get it, but...Mr. Sunderland doesn't really stop anybody from doing anything. I dunno how much he really cares.” </p><p>“Hm. i wonder who owns the building, Eileen said it's sort of falling apart…” she mused for a moment and then she seemed to remember something, “Walter...he does know something more about this. He didn't explain it very well, but he has to know something.”</p><p>“Well..yeah i suppose he would, i dunno....it's something about, i guess Silent Hill, and dreams? And...he sort of, uhm implied that it's somehow his fault. But i don't know much more than that. I guess he was raised in an orphanage in Silent Hill, other than that i really..really don't know what any of this means. He has some theories but i mean...i dunno what he does know, or if he knows anything for sure.” </p><p>“Hm. well i don't believe he doesn't know anything.” she shook her head and after a moment he could practically see an idea cross her mind as she glanced at the magazine with the article. “You said he was raised in an orphanage in SIlent Hill right?”</p><p>“Yeah That's what he told me.”</p><p>“He must've been raised by that cult then.” She stated matter of factly, like she had just proposed the idea, peer reviewed it with herself, and accepted it then and there. </p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes, it had to be that cult, there aren't any other orphanages there, at least not ones called orphanages, usually just temporary foster homes. If he lived there for a long time it must've been that orphanage. The man who wrote that article talked about suspicious shit inside the orphanage. “ she explained, “Silent Hill has always been full of bad rumors, i don't doubt that the organization, if that's what it was, had some shady business going on. Drugs, possibly trafficking, things like that, a religious cult using the front of being charity isn't anything out of the ordinary for that town.”</p><p>“....really?” he wasn't even sure why he asked, but something about it seemed so strange, somehow he was both surprised and unsurprised at the same time. Silent Hill had always been peaceful to him, peaceful and sinister in a bittersweet poison that felt natural as all things had a downside, a dagger waiting to be plunged into the back of the fool reaching for comfort from arms offering it, that was how he perceived the world, that was just how things were. It was strange to him that someone might see that as a bad thing, and not a plain fact. Silent Hill was that for him. A double edged sword. She had just shaken her head.</p><p>“I know it advertises itself as a cute little resort town but one look at the news and you can tell there's something wrong with it. You can't be that naive right?”</p><p>“Well...i guess not.” Henry decided not to argue or try and explain himself, it wasn't worth it and besides, he didn't think he could explain it anyways. </p><p>“I'm assuming that the orphanage taught him some weird bullshit, i don't know how this could be his fault, but if he's willing to take responsibility i'll let him, and i'll let him fix it too.” </p><p>“Yeah…” Henry supposed he had to agree as he stared down at the paper and then the magazine again, wondering if they would ever really figure out what was going on here, “what should we do now?” </p><p>“I think we should talk to Walter, see if we can find anything else out about him. Figure out if he does know something, and if he lies, I don't have any problem forcing it out of him.” Cynthia nodded and though Henry didn't really want to, he guessed he couldn't stop her. She reached for the magazine to take it with her and They turned and left the room, her with her head held high, and Henry slouching behind her, both dreading and heavily interested in what Walter would say. </p><p>Their titular defendant was still staring at something on the wall, it looked to be a weird stain that, as they grew closer, almost looked like a face. Not a pleasant face by any means, one almost tortured in nature, that or demonic. Walter was busy running the very tips of his fingers over the strange raised lumps in the wall, and he didn't seem to notice the other two when they approached until they were a little too close in general, not to mention being too close to ignore.</p><p>"Oh..i didn't see you two…" he said after flinching a bit at how close Henry and Cynthia were. "Did you, uh find anything?"</p><p>"Yes we did as a matter of fact." Cynthia said, seeming to be ragrading him with causal skepticism and suspicion, reaching the hand with the magazine out. Walter looked a bit confused and cautiously took it, reading through it and his face grew more and more distressed. He cleared his throat when he finished and looked up as though he was trying to find the words but his mouth wasn't cooperating. </p><p>“Well...well this certainly is interesting but-”</p><p>“I think it's pretty damn interesting too. In fact I think you know quite a bit about that don't you.” </p><p>“I don't know what you mean…” Walter attempted to divert this and Cynthia looked like she might say something snippy and for a reason Henry didn't know he didn't want her to upset him, so he spoke up. </p><p>“You...you were raised in that cult weren't you, by the, the order.” he asked, Walter paused and tried to think through what he was going to say. </p><p>“Well...well cult is a..strong word, i wouldn't call it that but, yes i was raised in an orphanage run by the Order.” Walter explained hesitantly as he kept glancing over at Cynthia, like he was trying to gauge her reaction to this. </p><p>"What do you mean by a strong word? It is obviously a cult."</p><p>"I know it might seem that way but…" he started but she cut him off. </p><p>"If something looks like a duck and quacks like a duck you'd say it a duck right?"</p><p>"...i suppose but…"</p><p>"Then if it looks like a cult and operates like a cult then-"</p><p>"It's not a cult." Walter said firmly, Cynthia rolled her eyes, frustrated, but he was adamant, Henry could see it in his eyes. Denial. He wondered how he was justifying it to himself. He guessed he understood it, he guessed he couldn't blame him. That's what cults were good at right? He felt bad for him, wondering why he was so defensive about this, why this would be something he would cling to. Not that it was his fault, he just wondered. It occurred to him that the connection between that water prison and that cult was far more disturbing than he initially realized. He didn't want to think about the implications right now, and it wasn't like he was going to play therapist for Walter. He sighed and tried to shift the subject a little. </p><p>"Are they, the..group, the reason all this is happening?" </p><p>"I...i don't think so." Walter spoke slowly as if thinking about it, choosing his answers carefully. "As far as i am aware, the Order no longer really exists, at least not how it used to when i was young. It's been nearly seven years since i've really...known much about what they've been up to. I don't know anything about their activities.”</p><p>“You think they...disbanded or something?”</p><p>“Maybe. I'm not sure. It's possible, regardless they have no <em>real</em> power over this Dream World. It's...at least partially, mine.” Walter explained, turned to look at the wall and sighed, staring at the strange face that was morphing slightly on the discolored walls. </p><p>“You have some fucking poweres or something?” Cynthia asked incredulously, Walter looked sort of discomforted. </p><p>“No. Well, I don't know. I mean nobody really knows if they do or not if they haven't tried to…” he shook his head and tried to redirect what he was saying, possibly realizing Cynthia was asking a rhetorical question. Or at least Henry was pretty sure she was. “Uhm...anyways, it wasn't intentional in any way. Silent Hill makes these things happen, and even though it is my fault in some ways, I didn't mean for all this to happen. Not to you two, not to Eileen, not to anyone.” </p><p>“But it did happen.” Cynthia's voice could be heard and Walter's face was hidden for a moment as he closed the magazine and rolled it up. </p><p>“Yes. it did. I am sorry. I know it doesn't mean anything. But all I can be is sorry. I truly wanted all of this to go away when i moved here.” </p><p>Henry just nodded, he supposed he could believe that, and though nothing really important had come from the conversation, he supposed they could talk themselves in circles about the how and why, get nowhere and it wouldn't get them out of the situation they were in. Walter couldn't save them with his theories or apologies. </p><p>“We...we found another of those..items for the puzzle in there too.” he said, electing to ignore the fact that he’d passed out briefly as it didn't matter, and he didn't want Walter to know for a reason he couldn't really put words to. The taller man nodded, continuing to touch the face in the wall. He took a deep breath. </p><p>“Yes that's good, well, i think...i think i could get us...somewhere. With this.” he gestured to the face on the wall, “i've...i think i've seen it before. Did you find any sort of talisman or perhaps a coin or strange drawing of any sort?” he asked. </p><p>“No. I mean we weren't looking but I doubt there's anything like that around here.” Cynthia said shaking her head and shifting her weight from one leg to the other, head tilted in some mix of confusion or curiosity. He wondered if she was angry about the lack of answers, but mostly she just looked weary.</p><p>“I figured as much.” Water sighed, and Henry wondered why he’d even asked. He turned away and proceeded to make his way to the kitchen, digging through the drawers for a bit before he found a small steak knife. He held it gingerly but deliberately.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Cynthia asked sharply, Henry couldn't blame the hand that gripped the baseball bat hard enough to lighten her knuckles. He forced himself to stay put despite his instinct to step between the two of them. </p><p>“Don't worry, it's for me.” he stated, and that wasn't much of a comfort as he pulled some of the first aid supplies from his pocket, setting them on the counter. He then grimaced as he began to look around at the pornography, Henry was very confused but could also tell that he was viscerally uncomfortable with this, something about it mustve been necessary however. As he slowly walked around the room still holding the knife as though he were afraid they were going to take it from him, he clearly wished he wasn't doing this. He stopped in front of a stack near the hole, Henry saw him take a deep breath and scowl a little as he knelt down and began to sift through the magazines.</p><p>“Is now really the time?” she asked but he either elected to ignore her or actually didn't hear her, Henry couldn't tell. After several weird minutes, he seemed to find what he was looking for as he stood up with a clipping from one of the magazines that must've been stuffed in there. From far away it looked like a woman dolled up to be something of a sexy devil, body paint, horns and a pitchfork and everything,she was curvy and surprisingly voluptuous, and the page looked relatively clean though it had been cut out of something. Henry guessed someone hadn't really cared for her even though she was objectively beautiful. Walter still seemed uncomfortable with it but still walked over to the face on the wall and pressed the page into the wall, surprisingly, it stayed put and Walter began to mutter to himself, though not in any language Henry knew. </p><p>“What the hell…” Cynthia muttered under her breath. Walter didn't hear her, and Henry didn't say anything as he watched almost in awe as the other man's eyes glazed over in that way it did when he was in some strange trance, or weird mental state, like the world wasn't real and he was somewhere far away. He approached the wall and Henry swiftly realized what he was going to do before he did it, but not quickly enough to stop him, he wouldn't know what to say, couldn't physically say anything and didn't know if it would make a difference. </p><p>“The path that opens when called, the signs of the sinners, my God will bring me through the darkness, into light, into truth.” Walter muttered, raising the knife a little higher, and jamming it into his palm. He barely flinched, Henry winced and felt somewhat ill, Cynthia gasped. Walter reached over the head on the wall and with blood began to slowly paint what turned out to be an eye, to his left he painted something Henry had a hard time deciphering but it sort of looked like a woman of sorts kneeling on the ground. there evidently wasn't enough blood, so he stabbed into his palm once more, painting what looked like a fetus encased in a circular leafy pattern on his right, and below him just a strange handful of ovals that seemed random and yet deliberate. </p><p>“And with your grace God, you may grant me this, I repent for asking this of you, for asking anything. I pray you open my eyes, open your heart to my plight, I do this with all the charity in my heart. I adore you as always, I ask for any pain you desire to punish me with. I love you. Amen.” Walter ended this prayer, lathered the gore on his palms, and painted the walls with his bloody hands in between his crude drawings. He took a deep breath, and began to shake a little hanging his head staring at the floor, Henry heard a long low groan and metal creaking and straining, a shriek coming from somewhere, and there was a white haze that filled the room so thick he couldn't see anything in front of him. The strange smog dissipated soon after and Henry was baffled to see another hole with all the symbols painted on the wall in that blood red color. He heard a strange noise that echoed from the hole, soft whispering and TV static. </p><p>Walter seemed to have mostly left his strange trance, but he did look tired, exhausted even, Henry and Cynthia could only stare at him while he strode towards the counter and began to slowly clean up his self inflicted wounds, the bloody knife settled on the counter while he bandaged his hands. </p><p>“What the fuck was that.” Cynthia finally managed, it then occurred to Henry that he didn't know if Cynthia could even see the hole. Before he could ask Walter simply shook his head.</p><p>“I'm sort of surprised it worked. But we should be able to get out through there, I assume it must’ve been what we’re supposed to have done. Or what i was supposed to do.” he grimaced a little as he put his supplies back in his pocket. He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, Henry didn't think he’d ever seen a man so drained. </p><p>“...you're surprised that <em>what</em> worked?” she demanded, Walter didn't answer her question exactly, and instead sighed to question her. </p><p>“What can you see?”</p><p>“Some weird symbols I suppose, like a large circle, multiple circles. I don't know what the hell you did all that for.” she gestured lightly with her hands, looking vaguely sickened and nervous. Henry couldn't blame her as even he found the little ritual disturbing. </p><p>“You should be able to go through the hole still. I think.” Walter sighed standing up and staring into said hole vacant and unflinching in his fatigued state, he glanced at Henry vaguely but he was sure the other man didn't see him somehow. Like looking through a window and still seeing nothing on the other side.</p><p>“The hole. Well forgive me for saying so but i can't see any hole.” </p><p>“I didn't see it at first either.” Henry said and she looked a bit exasperated that both of them were being strange. He didn't know how to explain it though. Yes, He knew what Walter was talking about, but he didn't know what he was supposed to say to Cynthia to relay the information in a rational manner. He wondered if he could make her see the holes like Walter had done for him, but then again Eileen didn't see them when he took her through the exits either. He wondered why it had happened between the two of them then, it made him feel weird. A Lot of things made him feel weird about the situation actually, his trance, his words, the way he knew what to do. Not to mention that to watch Walter pray and mutilate himself hit somewhere close to home in the back of his mind. It was uncomfortable. </p><p>“Okay. well. That's helpful thanks.” she shrugged, exasperated. “Can you be any more vague? Just wondering.”</p><p>“It's just a hole and it leads to a-well it leads somewhere else.” Henry explained, “it's magic...or something like that i don't know.”</p><p>“Not magic exactly. An act of God. and of Silent Hill.” Walter said standing next to the hole, reaching out and caressing the side of the casually symmetrical chasm lightly. </p><p>“So your scary magical home town is manifesting holes that lead god knows where and we’re just supposed to go through the hole and hope we end up somewhere helpful?” Cynthia summarized sarcastically.</p><p>“Yes. something like that.” Walter nodded lightly. Henry wasn't sure if he'd picked up the joking.  </p><p>“Well if we have to go through it, you guys can go first.” she said after a pause, like she never expected him to actually agree. She popped joints in the wrist holding her bat nervously,</p><p>“You'll have to take one of our hands to go through, i..i'm sorry it's just…” Walter shrugged, looking a little nervous though he couldn't comfortably wring his hands like he was used to. Cynthia huffed.</p><p>“Fine. I'll take Henry’s since you went all Micheal Meyers on your’s there.” and with that she rolled her eyes and reached over, loosely grabbing Henry’s hand much to his surprise. He let her do so even though he wasn't sure what to do with it. Allowing their fingers to grace each other and their knuckles to it linger there. Walter just nodded and he began to slowly crawl through the hole. Cynthia blinked in confusion but Henry didn't have the strength to ask her what she saw. There was a pause when he was gone, and the woman next to him was clearly hesitant, but Cynthia evidently wasn't one to sit and dwell on problems. </p><p>“Well big man, i guess it's just me and you. Do you think this is a good idea?” she asked, clearly trying to catch his eye, but he didn't quite let her do so.</p><p>“Well...there isn't much...i mean i don't think we can do anything else...it shouldn't hurt, but i don't know where we’ll end up.” </p><p>“Fair enough i suppose.” she sighed before adding, “Do you believe him that he doesn have any control over this?” </p><p>“....i don't know, maybe? I don't really think he started it..on purpose." Henry explained after considering it, deciding that this was the answer he was fine with attaching himself to for now. "I think he knows some things, I think he might be dangerous, I..i think he might be trying to help, but i don't think he knows how. He might be making it worse…"</p><p>"But we don't have much of a choice but to trust him do we?"</p><p>"....no we don't." Henry shrugged, "we...i guess we don't have to really trust him but, we can't just split up. It's not a good idea." </p><p>"Fair enough." She sighed, "well. Lead me through this, hole or whatever. I can only hope we come out the other side." </p><p>"We will. I think." Henry nodded and led her forward much as he'd done to Eileen, gently crawling into the echoing hole, he could hear the clock ticking and feel the hand on his own tighten it's grip. </p><p>And into the nothing they fell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[In her false witness Hope you're still with us To see if they float or drown Our favorite patient A display of patience Disease-covered Puget sound. She'll come back as fire. To burn all the liars, Leave a blanket of ash on the ground//I miss the comfort in being sad]<br/>It Claws in your chest and you wish you could swallow it down again</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>made the choice to split up the chapter i was working on because this one was already long enough, so! enjoy it please and thank u i worked really hard on it! comments are appreciated and loved as always i hope everything is going good for yall &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a moment where Henry almost believed that he was back home, warm, it was morning and he could lay here for another hour or so and then make food, shower, anything. He could smell candles, he felt his shitty couch under him, and for that moment he could pretend that he was safe, and he didn't have to think about anything anymore, he could sleep for a while and could deal with everything later. What a nice thought. </p>
<p>Then he felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him slightly. The disappointment left a foul sadness in his mouth. </p>
<p>Henry opened his eyes and found himself face to face with Eileen. Bright vivid green eyes met his darker greyish ones and he saw her face split into a wide relieved grin.</p>
<p>“Henry..” she pulled him to a sitting position and hugged him as he was still a little surprised and disoriented, but having her head on his shoulder and arms around his back was painfully nice. She smelled like blood and faintly like strawberry soap and she held on for maybe a little too long, he honestly didn't want to stop her, until he realized she was a little too close to his chest for comfort and he pulled away slightly. </p>
<p>“Where..have you been here?” he asked, sliding his legs off the couch and looking up when she pulled away and sat on the coffee table in front of him. </p>
<p>“Yeah i have. I dunno how long maybe a few hours?” she shook her head, “i guess this is one of the apartments in our complex but…”</p>
<p>“Well it's mine...but..” he looked around and realized some things were different. “Well not quite…” </p>
<p>The room was strangely dim and grey, like the whole area was in black and white but him and Eileen were not. Out of place in a sense. The room was decorated with candles though only one on the counter was lit, and there was a huge record player and cabinet with records in it where his own TV would've been. Some of the chairs were arranged a bit differently and notably the door had been chained from the inside once again. He also noted that the cabinet next to the couch that he kept photos and a lamp on had been shoved aside and when he craned his neck a little to see, he found a deep indent in the wall, like someone was trying to tunnel their way through it.  </p>
<p>“It's uhm..well it's just not quite right…”</p>
<p>“Everything looks like a weird old movie, so I kinda guessed. I also can't imagine you would make a big hole in your wall, or chain up the door like that.”</p>
<p>“No…” Henry shook his head, noting the candles against the wall in the hallway, as well as a patch of what looked like wet sludge in the carpet dripping from the ceiling. Gross. He remembered his two companions from before, and as he stood up to look around a bit he wondered if something had happened to them, where they had ended up. Inexplicably worried for them. Until of course his bedroom door opened. </p>
<p>Cynthia and Walter emerged from the bedroom both looking a bit frazzled and Cynthia scowling in disgust at the carpet until she caught a glimpse at Eileen, her whole expression melting into relief and a smile Henry didn't figure he would have ever seen on her before. In less time than it took to read her expression, Eileen had her arms around the other woman and they were hugging, bodies ridged and unmoving in how tightly they were pinned to one another. </p>
<p>“There you are...have you been here the whole time?" Cynthia asked as she pulled away ever so slightly from the other woman. </p>
<p>"Mostly yeah...how did you get here?"</p>
<p>"Ask him." Cynthia glanced at Walter who had wandered into the room, frowning at the changes to the room, the odd color, the candles, he barely reacted to Cynthia gesturing at him, striding to a candle and picking it up. </p>
<p>"Walter?" </p>
<p>"The Holes." He answered almost immediately, "it's the only way out, deeper, we go deeper every time. This isn't your present day room right?" It took Henry a moment to realize he was talking to him, as he was still invested in the candle. </p>
<p>"No. It's not."</p>
<p>"Then we must be.... in Some other time, but not too far back." Walter sounded a bit delirious, he still looked exhausted like it was taking all of his will power to speak. But he did believe what he was saying, that much Henry was sure of.</p>
<p>"What the hell does that mean?" Cynthia asked, tossing her arms at her sides. </p>
<p>"I don't- i'm not sure. We just have to find a way out of here...and find the last of those clues to the puzzle downstairs…" </p>
<p>"There's a puzzle?"</p>
<p>"Yeah..uhm to get to half of the first floor, we were trying to get to Mr. Sunderland. We got held up by...monsters and other..things" Henry explained glancing at Walter's bandaged hand. He tried to look away quickly but Eileen followed his gaze from the other man's injury to his own. The bandages on his arms were still tight but blood had soaked through some parts.</p>
<p>"Right...oh I hope Mr. Sunderland is ok…" </p>
<p>"You said the man was in Vietnam right? He'll be fine I'm sure." Cynthia shrugged, picking up a record from the shelf and presumably judging it, probably because it was John Lennon. </p>
<p>"Well sure but that was like in the fifties and early sixties, he's pretty old now." Eileen shrugged. </p>
<p>"Was he? In..in Vietnam I mean." Walter said his mind appeared to have finally caught up with the conversation as he set the candle down. </p>
<p>"So he says, I mean, I don't think he's lying," she hastened to clarify, "but y'know, he's old and kind of crazy. He forgets things all the time, tells the same story differently every time he tells it, so I don't know exactly what's going on with him. All the more reason to make sure he's alright." </p>
<p>"I guess he's deluded enough to let so many other crazy people keep living here so maybe he really does need someone to check up on him.” Cynthia shrugged as she put back what appeared to be Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors”, he wasn't sure if she was referring to himself and Walter, or the tenant of the last apartment, but he guessed she had a point either way. If Walter understood this as a jab at himself then he didn't say anything.</p>
<p>“Right. Anyways, Earlier i saw there was this note on the door over here but i couldn't read it. I dunno, maybe you could help figure it out? I feel like it probably has something to do with the door but i don't know...there's no other way out of here unless there's another one of those holes somewhere.” Eileen said, pulling yet another piece of paper out of her pocket.</p>
<p>“I didn't see another one in the bedroom. So unless it's in the bathroom, i assume we’ll have to leave through the door.” Walter nodded and Henry offered to take a crack at the note. It was written in pencil with handwriting that was sort of unsteady, almost childish but not like a very young child, almost like a lazy teenager who didn't care to put much effort into making it look nice, just neat enough to be readable. </p>
<p><em>there's a secret room around here somewhere, you'll find the keys under your feet. Be careful, there’s a ghost or something like a ghost here too.</em> </p>
<p>Well, he appreciated this person being mostly straightforward. This was a lot more helpful than anybody else had been. He realized after a moment that the other three were staring at him and he felt somewhat hot, it occurred to him that he’d have to read it aloud, he cleared his throat and managed to stumble through it with some, albeit minimal, stammering. </p>
<p>“Hm...well that's better than some of the other notes.” Eileen said after hearing it, Walter and Cyntha nodded in agreement, and the three of them began to look around for this supposed secret room. Despite the room not <em>technically</em> being his own, he couldn't help being a bit uncomfortable by watching them dig around in it, he had watched Walter do the same but, in this sense he felt even more naked, exposed as the three of them were in his space, touching things that he would eventually own. He took a deep breath and decided to try and help to hopefully alleviate this feeling, or at least get them out of this room so he wouldn't snap at anyone. </p>
<p>He didn't know where to start though, he decided to check the bathroom just as Walter had suggested but he found nothing there, besides the absence of his own robe and basically all of his soap and towels. He wondered if this tennet washed their hands ever, but with nothing there of any real interest he turned out of the room. Only to find something catching his eye on the wall, something written in red, he thought it was blood at first only to realize it was far too bright and fresh while being clearly dry. Perhaps it was lipstick as it sort of had the same consistency. He squinted and managed to make out the words, it seemed similar to the handwriting from the note.</p>
<p>
  <em>The door to hell through thin drywall. Ultimate suffering in the place you're supposed to feel safe, Irony at its finest.</em>
</p>
<p>This seemed to be a clue, he wondered why none of the others had pointed it out, unless the others hadn't seen it, he imagined Eileen or Cynthia wouldn't be able to read it, but Walter usually could see things like this, it was brightly colored and eye catching. Still he supposed it didn't matter, what did matter was the actual note itself. He glanced at the wall to his right and found a slight crack in it, staring between the wall and the note, he got an idea, it was insane sure, but he decided he didn't care at this point. Anything to get everyone out of his house.</p>
<p>Pivoting on his feet he walked to the living room catching the attention of Eileen and Cynthia, the former who was looking in the fridge for whatever reason, and the latter examining the indent in the wall near the couch, Walter was looking out the window and didn't react until Henry opened the laundry room. Nobody explicitly asked him anything so he didn't answer their staring as he scanned the little closet, finding the box of tools that had been left here by the previous tenant that he’d never personally used outside of tightening the hinges on the bathroom door. He found a very old dirty hammer and he figured that would probably do, these apartments were shitty enough that this would likely be good enough to take out the wall with some effort. </p>
<p>The others silently watched him leave the room and head back down the hallway, hammer in hand, as he looked up and down the wall trying to decide where to start with this, figuring that he could just go for it. It didn't matter, he guessed. Reeling back a little he threw as much of his body weight into the swing as he could and with a somewhat satisfying sound, a sizable hole was made with the tool.</p>
<p>“Henry?”</p>
<p>“Oh lovely, he's getting us out of here.” he heard the sarcasm in Cynthia's tone as clearly as the confusion in Eileen’s. He didn't think he could explain it, so he just pulled the hammer out of the wall and thrust it back through. Ripping drywall out with the tool as hard as he could, it was crumbling under his assaults like a disappointingly dry cookie, and he marveled at how flimsy the wall felt, either it was really shittily made or he was stronger than he really had ever considered. He was certain he found the handle to a door and he excitedly hit the wall harder and started pulling off half broken pieces with his hands, dropping the hammer and ignoring as much of the dust and debris in his face as he could though he started coughing slightly and his eyes watering. </p>
<p>He managed to make a sizable hole in the wall, enough that he could open the door and squeeze his way through with slight effort. Taking a deep breath to try and stop the pain in his lungs he turned around to see the two women staring at him in disbelief, and Walter behind them seeming unsurprised if curious. He felt sort of hot again as he tried to clear his lungs of dust and figure out what to say. </p>
<p>“Uhm..there was a note..on the wall that said...well it was...there's a door here.” he gestured to the wall behind him. </p>
<p>“There sure is…” Eileen shook her head, seeming baffled by his actions. “Well, I wonder if that's where those keys are, I guess it should be if it's the secret room.” </p>
<p>“Probably. I'd love to understand your thought process but I can't imagine we have the time to get into that.” Cynthia shook her head and leaned against her bat like a cane of sorts. Walter just frowned at the door. Henry decided to turn around again and reached through the hole in the wall and opened his little discovery, ducking under jagged bits of plaster and squeezing inside. He heard voices behind him.</p>
<p>“Should we follow him?”</p>
<p>“I'm not squeezing through that hole, and well, I can't imagine Blondie behind us here can fit through there either.”</p>
<p>“I..i could try?”</p>
<p>“No Walter, I don't think that's a good idea.” Eileen sighed, and from that point on Henry couldn't hear anything else. The door closed behind him as he looked around the dark room that appeared to be some sort of storage area. </p>
<p>There were several shelves inside, a lot of them full of empty containers of what might've been medicine or might have been chemicals, and the whole thing smelled awful. Mostly like mold and somewhat like rotting flowers, it was just dark enough to be unable to see any real details, he couldn't read the labels on the jars, but as he ventured the room more he noticed dark stains in the wood under his shoes. He wondered if it was blood, or maybe something less terrible. He walked through two tall shelves and found an area of the room slightly sectioned off, an absurdly dim light filtered through the filthy windows and he could just make out what was definitely blood dried into a wooden work bench, the table on the side, and the floor. An old fridge was placed back here, he couldn't imagine it worked still. On one of the tables was the broken handle of a knife, and an empty vial with what appeared to be an old heavy book as well as more candles. Henry was having a difficult time making out anything of any real note with how dark the room was and remembered the lighter in his pocket, flicking it open and taking a rusty candlestick set aside on the floor he forced a candle onto it and lit it, he guessed he could have just used the lighter by itself but he was already having some issues getting it on. It must be almost out of fuel. Not that it mattered, as the swift dancing flame cast an otherwise comforting orange glow over a deep black pit in the center of the room. </p>
<p>“What the hell…” He approached it and found it to be filled with what might've been ink or sludge, it was the exact consistency of congealed blood, thick and goopy and it smelled like death. He heard a voice in the hole. And he felt the hair on his neck stand up as it felt like it had come from both around his feet, and was being whispered by cold breath in his ear.</p>
<p><em>”you can't hide a secret from me.”</em> </p>
<p>Not knowing what that meant, or who had spoken to him, he ground his left palm into his forehead, he felt cold. What could that mean? He didn't know why he was asking, that voice…</p>
<p>
  <em> “i know already, so do you. They'll all know eventually. Then what? You don't know, but i do. They will hate you. They always have. I hate you too. Because you hated me first. It's not fair. I didn't ask for this. But you really really hate me don't you.” </em>
</p>
<p>The voice was childish, because it was a child. There was no doubt about that, he knew that voice from the monologues that had persisted in his own head years ago. He had quieted them as much as possible, and the voice had matured, but it had remained just as malicious. As he thought of it, the voice continued, growing all that much older as it did so. Smarter, cunning in it's words, it no longer spoke in child-like insults and insufferable tantrums, rather it spoke like someone viewing something they regarded as less than human. </p>
<p><em>”are you ignoring me? Typical. Pathetic really. You're always like this, i hate you too y'know, you deserve this. All of this, I wonder what would happen if you drowned yourself in whatever that sludge is. It would be better for everyone. Piece of shit. At least it won't matter when you're dead. Corpses can't fuck anything else up afterall.”</em> </p>
<p>Yeesh. Melodramatic much, sure the voice was right, it often was, always even, but christ it didn't have to lay it on so thick. Then again, he couldn't help but feel a tense melancholy in his chest, weighing on his shoulders. He knew the feeling well, but it didn't mean it was any easier to deal with, especially when it had hit out of nowhere like it was doing now. It was only a matter of time. He would think more about it if the sludge below him had it not begun to morph and shift.</p>
<p>It grew. Oh how it always grew in a wave. It's smoke filled the room and his lungs, and he felt like he was choking on nothing and all his failures at once. There was no head, no real head, just stretched mouths in an endless spiral in it's midsection, where a stomach might be, it's chest hollowed out with only the delicate framework of what could've been wires and what could've been veins holding up a small, barely beating coal shaped heart. It's head was nothing more than an endless smoggy void. He saw faces morphing in and out of the cloud like they were pushing their way through plastic but not breaking the barrier, vague bastardizations of expressions of joy, anger or even real sadness masked by a thick sheet, so he could only barely make them out. It's arms were large and thick, heavy with chains wrapped around them like bandages, and it's hands human-like and almost inviting, it's legs looked more like tree trunks as it slowly shuffled forward, with those heavy arms reaching for him. </p>
<p>In a slow moving panic Henry dropped the candle snuffing out the vague bit of light he still had, inexplicably he felt the dread overtake him more, a feeling in his lungs like he was hearing a sad song and experiencing a lot more than the artist ever intended. He backed himself into the wall as the thing reached for him, he was afraid of it and he was shaking as the things hands graced the side of his face, in a gentle and almost loving manner. Like an old friend, like a lover, the hands were so gentle and kind, it was inviting him closer. Suddenly he felt less scared, but more and more sad. Henry felt like he wasn't supposed to let it, but he also felt like he should lean into it, allow it to wash over him. It's hands cupped his face and moved ever closer. Comfortable despair, like he knew everything was pointless, but because he knew for certain that it was true, he was at peace. You will die, alone and unloved in this room, in this hell, and why shouldn't you? You'd love to die this way. All of his bias confirmed, the soft voices that seemed to come from the cloud of heads, telling him to forget anything that contradicted it. He almost agreed, he had to of course, what choice did he have? Besides, he wanted to accept it. He let it pull him closer. Warmth in his sadness. Comfort. </p>
<p>Hopelessly sheltered in misery. </p>
<p>The cloud of faces grew closer, and tried to force its way into his mouth, it felt cold, like drowning, and suddenly he realized he couldn't let it do this, and jerked away, but it held him by his arms, he heard the voices asking him why he was struggling? Why was he acting like he didn't want it to help? He thrashed against it while it pinned him to the wall and he began to panic. Struggling and trying to rip his arms away from the creature, the monster realized he was fighting and pushed him harder, he kicked at it, aiming for it's chest though it was too tall to reach. The monster became angry, pressing its body against his own, pushing harder into his mouth, choking while he was writhing under its grasp. Henry heard thumping against the wall, and the creature seemed momentarily distracted by it, the faces in it's cloudy void showed him a muted look of concern and that gave Henry some hope.</p>
<p>Gathering all of his strength he shoved his body hard against the monster, making it stumble backwards slightly, but it's grip didn't loosen on his arms, try as he might to struggle against it. Certain he was bruised from its hands, blood dripping from reopened wounds, fighting the thing physically while also trying to stop himself from dissolving into apathy. To just let it kill him, let the creature fill him with it's cloud of nothing. He didn't know if he wanted to die or not but it didn't matter because he was fighting it as hard as he could, it picked him up and he kicked hard at it's chest again hard enough that it cracked and the creature dropped him to the floor. Henry scrambled away from it, and kept glancing up at the thing as it made what could only be described as a sort of moaning noise, low and pained. He'd hurt more than its body, he'd hurt it's feelings, it's voices grew angier, betrayed. <em>”i'm only trying to help you, i love you, how could you do this to me? Hurt me like you always do, always fighting me when I just want to love you…”</em> Henry grasped randomly and found his hand connecting with cold metal, the candlestick, he had forgotten. It wasn't a good weapon by any means, but as he ripped the candle off of it and realized it was sort of sharp, he made the split second decision and stood as quickly as he could besides the aching in his bones, stumbling forward and lunging at the thing, jamming the sharp end into its cracked chest. </p>
<p>The creature howled in pain and thrashed, angry as it tried to hurl it's hands at Henry but could only knock things off of the shelves as it stumbled around, thick and bright red, blood gushed from the wound Henry had made to it's dusty rock of a heart. Blood that far exceeded the volume of what should be possible. It fell back and sobbed as it collapsed to its knees, slowly clawing at the wound and while it died, and Henry stood over it untriumphant and exhausted, he heard the garbled echoes of voices he still knew.</p>
<p>
  <em>”this is nothing...i'll be back for you Doll, i always am...afterall i am your best friend…”</em>
</p>
<p>The thing melted into a pile of what could only be described as goop and though the atmosphere had lightened considerably, Henry was exhausted, emotionally, physically, and any other way one could be tired. He stared at the goo and could barely think, except that he was genuinely unnerved by that thing, a monster, a monster that could make him feel like that, could bring up more of his thoughts, feelings from a few years ago, those ideas and ideas that he should just kill himself and be over it. The words that thing flung at him, thoughts he had many times, but didn't want to deal with. He felt disgusted with the thing, partially because he sort of knew in the back of his mind, that this was his. Like Walter had said, this thing was his monster, his filth manifesting into reality. It spoke to him, said things only he knew the meaning of. There was no way in hell it wasn't his. </p>
<p>He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to steady himself, no need to have a panic attack on top of everything else. The sludge was festering while he stood there wondering when the hell this whole nightmare would end, and vaguely registering that the hole in the floor from before was gone, until he realized there was something in the sludge, he hesitated, he doubted he really wanted anything covered in whatever the hell that monster was, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, he guessed he stopped caring, apathy wasn't doing him many favors but he figured he didn't need to think too deeply about it. He couldn't. It would probably break him at this point. </p>
<p>He knelt down and gingerly picked up the object in the cold sludge, but when he did so, the goop slid off of it, dripping sort of like syrup but quickly. He stared in disbelief at the thing he was holding. His hands shook.</p>
<p>Why had he named that stuffed lamb Mr. Coffee? He didn't remember, he had been maybe three when he'd done so. it didn't matter because now Mr. Coffee was in his hands in perfect condition. Just as he had been when Henry was a child, the light blue bow on his neck that had been worn down and discolored and the pink in his ears that had been rubbed off after years of being cuddled and played with. His fur also discolored, a light off grey rather than pure white. Just like he had been when he’d been lost. </p>
<p>It was like meeting an old friend. Someone he thought he had lost forever. </p>
<p>It was the thing that suddenly when he saw it, made him want to cry. He forced the memories of the fake meaty child he'd killed before and held his friend, his real friend now. He pulled it closer and cradled him, all of the sludge had slid off of him and this little memory was more than enough to bring him closer to tears than the berating voices. He remembered how much this little stuffed creature had meant to him, a child with no friends but broken toys he would find or even take from kids who'd forgotten them. He remembered lonely nights under blankets of him and his friend talking by way of Henry thinking to him and Mr. Coffee just listening or occasionally responding by way of Henry practicing dialogue with him. Mr. Coffee saw the things Henry’s father insisted to him were make-believe, that his mother thought was evidence he was talking about the devil, or lamenting that she never had a normal child. This one toy was his friend, his counselor, the one person to care for him, that he truly cared about. He looked over at the toy, and in his excitement he forgot what was going on around him, only to feel his heart crumble into dust when he saw the numbers scrawled on the bow.</p>
<p>5/5</p>
<p>Of course. </p>
<p>Why would he be allowed to have anything? Not in this awful place, not anywhere. He didn't want to leave him behind. He didn't want this to be just a figment of this place throwing knives at him. But unfortunately life was, as many people would call it “a bitch”, he wouldn't word it like that, he didn't care for that word, but regardless, life was awful and always wanted to kick him when he was down. He didn't know why, he guessed it was just what he deserved for one sin or another. He contemplated jumping off a bridge for a moment before he realized there weren't any bridges around here and why the hell was he getting worked up over a toy, a toy for a little girl no less. He knew why, but he was pretending he didn't. </p>
<p>He heard a thump, and creaking and then muffled voices. He glanced over at the door and realized EIleen, Cynthia, and Walter were still in his room, or a version of his room, he glanced down at the stuffed animal in his hands and wondered what the hell he was going to say about this, he doubted he was going to be able to hold it together when he would have to give his doll up again, but he couldn't just sit in here forever, or maybe he could but it wasn't a good idea. They'd probably come looking eventually though it would only be out of obligation. So He sighed and got to his feet but before he decided what to do the door opened revealing a slightly disoriented Eileen who nearly tripped over the hole and the door. </p>
<p>“Henry oh man...are you okay? You look kind of pale.” she frowned as she got her footing again, shaking her head a little as there was dust in her hair.</p>
<p>“I'm fine.” he replied after a moment, the doll in his hands instead of against his chest as he moved with casualty he didn't rightly still have, he was shaking, a fact he had just picked up on, and he guessed it had something to do with killing something and the adrenaline that was supposed to provide to him. Eileen frowned, but he couldn't make out the details of that frown in such a dark room, but he could see her tilt her head towards the doll. </p>
<p>“You don't look okay...are you sure?” she asked but he just nodded, and he supposed she decided to drop it, “well alright. We were just really worried, you were in here for like..half an hour i think, and we couldn't open the door or hear anything. What do ya got there?”</p>
<p>“It's...part of the puzzle. The last piece.” he managed after a moment of trying to process the length of time he had evidently been inside the room. She walked closer and subtly reached for the toy, he hesitated but couldn't justify not letting her hold it. He popped his knuckles over and over as she gently looked over the lamb, she couldn't know it's significance, but it seemed that she had some tender respect for it regardless.</p>
<p>“Aw He's so cute. It looks like somebody's doll, maybe a little kids? Somebody’s definitely missing him regardless.” Eileen said softly petting his discolored fuzz and smoothing the bow, “sad we have to use him for a puzzle…” </p>
<p>“Yeah…” he didn't have much to add, he wondered why she decided to assign pronouns to the toy, he knew that he had of course, but it wasn't her toy. He wasn't sure if he was jealous or protective or perhaps a little bit relieved to watch her gently hold his friend with the respect that one would hold a fragile heirloom or an infant. Eileen seemed to be a very gentle person, and part of him kind of loved her for that, or maybe not love, he wasn't sure, it didn't matter. She glanced up at him and seemed to realize he was staring at her while she cradled a child's toy and she hurried to justify this. </p>
<p>“Sorry i just...i like stuffed animals and dolls.” she shrugged something halfway sheepish in her tone, he could have guessed this from her car. “Anyways, is there anything else here? It's great we got this part of the puzzle obviously but we can't get there if the door is still chained up.”</p>
<p>“No...i haven't seen anything else really…” </p>
<p>“Hm…” Eileen walked through the shelves  and glanced around, as if trying to find a clue herself, and he followed her, eyes still mostly fixated on his doll. There really wasn't anything around besides all the spilled clear chemicals on the floor, he figured most of them were cleaning supplies or something similar, they did smell strange, but he couldn't really describe them better than them smelling like chemicals of some sort. </p>
<p>“Hey Henry..you said this was your room right? Or a version of your room?” Eileen asked as she was staring at the bloodstained tables.</p>
<p>“Oh uhm..Yeah, why?”</p>
<p>“Well, i'm just wondering, what's back here normally? Like when your apartment isn't all weird do you use this back room for anything?”</p>
<p>“..i don't have a back room in my apartment.” he shook his head as she turned to look at him and frowned.</p>
<p>“You don't?” he shook his head once more and this seemed to confuse her. “That's weird...i was pretty sure everyone did, i sort of do, and i know Mr. Sunderland and Mr. Braintree does, and so does Racheal and some other people I know…”</p>
<p>“there's nothing there for me. Just a wall.” </p>
<p>“That's strange, i wonder why...i guess that idea’s out though. I wonder if that fridge has anything…” she wandered over to said appliance and opened it to take a look only to immediately recoil and slam the door shut, inadvertently dropping the doll and covering her face with her hands.</p>
<p>“Eileen?”</p>
<p>“What the fuck…” she closed her eyes and then after a deep shuddering breath left her she crouched down, scooping up the toy and cuddling it for a moment. “I'm..i'm sorry i just...Henry i want to go home, i'm so tired and scared…” her voice was smaller and Henry stood close to her, gently setting a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was reassurance. Whatever apathy he’d forced on himself to cope, he couldn't help but feel bad for her, empathy wasn't a skill he really liked, but it was something he could be exceptionally good at, too good even, albeit very rarely. She was tired, she was scared, she felt alone and confused. He understood that all too much, but he knew he had to be more reliable here, a rock, no matter how he felt about the monsters, about what was going on, about his involvement and the things he’d seen and experienced, he would be quiet about it. So Eileen could grieve. He didn't have to know her, he didn't want to care about her, but he hated to see other people upset.</p>
<p>“It's okay...Eileen it'll be alright eventually.” he started, she glanced over at him and he realized he really didn't have a way to prove this.  </p>
<p>“Will it? There's no way either of us could know that. It's just one nightmare after another…”</p>
<p>“It's okay...it's not real. I'm sorry it...I know it looks real but..” he took a deep breath, “i think we’ll be ok, i think if we keep going we can fix this. We can go home, or wake up. I don't think anybody really died here it's...it's tricks..to make us think something happened.” </p>
<p>“Yeah...yeah you're right, it's not real it's..there's no real people dead anywhere...it's just that, dream world right?” she sniffed and this seemed to sort of comfort her, “it's a bad dream, and we just have to work to wake ourselves up. That's all..” </p>
<p>“Yeah. that's it.” Henry wasn't sure, neither of them had really convinced themselves or each other, but of course they didn't have a real option but to believe this as the truth. It was that or succumb to despair. Henry maneuvered around her slightly, gently gesturing her to the side with his hand before realizing and removing it from her shoulder. He guessed the fridge was likely the only real clue, so with as much gumption as one could have he reached forward opening the fridge and tried not to gag at the sight.</p>
<p>There was a head in there. A severed human head that, despite the fact that the fridge worked, had maggots crawling in and out of its face. The skin had begun to blacken and there was a disgusting ooze that had dripped and pooled through the grates on the fridge, a pinkish foam had crusted around it's mouth and nose, and henry could smell the thing even from where he was. He didn't know if it was his nose being sensitive or if bodies just smelt like that but good god it was sweet like sour perfume that singed his nose and twisted his stomach in a nasty bout of nausea, his bodies way of asking what the fuck he was doing, he'd smelled rotting meat before, finding a torn package of hamburger that had fallen behind some shelves and been left, or in his parents fridge when his mother was too sick and his father didn't care enough to clean out the spoiled food, but so much worse than both of those instances. It's eyes had been eaten by bugs, and the ants and maggots continued to make a feast of this person's face. He repressed the bile in the back of his throat but couldn't repress a groan at the sight. </p>
<p>He closed his eyes, he shook his head, and then he looked again, hoping there was something he could use here. Something helpful. And when he looked again he saw the maggots had moved and begun to wiggle after one another, as did the ants crawling down onto the shelf below and as he watched in disbelief, the bugs began to spell out words with their engorged little bodies. </p>
<p><em>the pig is under the floorboards, bitch</em> </p>
<p>“What the hell…” he muttered through choked back tears, he hated maggots normally and now they were giving him cryptic messages? Okay well maybe this one wasn't cryptic, it did call him a bitch, and he didn't like that he was being communicated with this way. </p>
<p>“Henry?” Eileen had her eyes closed when he looked at her and he exhaled quickly. </p>
<p>“Hold on...i'm..i just need to fix something.” he said and she listened, he noted her nose wrinkled in disgust. He stepped forward gingerly and took great care in making sure none of the ants or maggots escaped the fridge. They just sort of wiggled around and he could be glad at least that they warrant sentient, hopefully. He closed the fridge and shuddered, ignoring the feeling in his gut like worms were wiggling up his throat. The smell permeated. </p>
<p>“Ok..ok i closed it don't worry.” he said and Eileen opened her eyes glancing around nervously, but there wasn't anything around to tip her off to the filth inside the appliance. </p>
<p>“Thank you Henry...i'm sorry it was just…”</p>
<p>“It was gross. It's okay.” he said when she didn't continue.</p>
<p>“Yeah...was there anything there?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. a head.”</p>
<p>“...well yeah, i mean like a clue of some kind?” Eileen looked baffled and he realized he had probably come off as rude or mean. His face felt warmer. </p>
<p>“Oh...oh sorry uhm..yeah there was a message, uhm talking about something under the floorboards?” he explained and she nodded, still holding the doll close to her and looking around at the floor though what she was looking for he didn't know. </p>
<p>She crouched down near the middle of the room, squinting at something he couldn't see until he made his way closer, only now noticing what appeared to be a small crack in the wood. </p>
<p>“You think there's something under there?”</p>
<p>“Maybe…” Henry frowned as he got closer to it, he tried to fit his fingers into the crack with the idea that he could rip it open with his hands, but they were too large, Eileen copied his attempt but also found only the smallest of her appendages could slip though, and her wincing away and shaking her hand indicated splintered wood as well. He pondered this for a moment and looked around maybe for a tool or maybe just for an idea, and it came to him in the form of the candlestick still lying off to the side. This thing was certainly a lot more useful than he might have anticipated. Eileen looked a little confused when he picked it up but didn't say anything as he managed to slip some of the arm of the thing through the hole and began to pry it upwards as best as he could. The board snapped slightly and he figured it would be easier to keep prying up boards with the candlestick so he continued. One particular board was giving him trouble until it popped slightly under his effort and the arm of the candle sick snapped off. </p>
<p>He tossed it to the side afterwards, luckily it seemed like he could actually reach through the hole even with how big his hands were. Eileen seemed hesitant, he decided to take the bullet, shoving his hand into the dark hole, a few thing poking at his skin but nothing too bad, he managed to avoid getting too hurt and his fingers graced something cold and metallic, he pulled it out with minimal scratches and found a keyring hanging on his fingers. </p>
<p>“Oh good.” Eileen smiled a little, and he was glad to see it, relief was nice to see on her face after so much stress. “We can get out of here…”</p>
<p>“Finally. Maybe...maybe we can go home soon…” Henry nodded standing up and offering her his hand without thinking as he helped her up. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Hopefully, i feel bad about Cynthia, you too y'know, and Walter..., i don't know what Walter’s involvement is but...still. I don't think he's all bad y'know. I don't think a human being could have really done all of this anyways.” </p>
<p>“I hope not.”</p>
<p>“Do you think he is a bad person? That he knows what's happening or...caused it?” she asked and he didn't think it was her questioning it herself, but rather more confused why he didn't seem to agree more wholeheartedly with her. He found it kind of funny and yet strange that he'd been asked this multiple times by different people now, he wondered what it was about Walter that made people so aggravated and distrustful. Walter was a lot like himself in some ways, he guessed that realization stung a little. He had an answer for her, but he hesitated if only to give the impression he had thought harder about it. </p>
<p>“...i dunno. He doesn't seem bad. But...people lie.” </p>
<p>“I guess they do huh, but i don't think he's good at it. I don't think he means to hurt anyone, even if i don't think he's being completely honest. That...weird water tower prison place...it had something to do with him. I can't imagine he wants to think about it, whatever happened to him there.” she glanced back at the fridge and shook her head, “there's no telling what kind of life he led before coming here, I just get the feeling he wanted to leave it behind.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, i guess so.” Henry nodded and sighed, maybe Walter wanted to leave it behind, hell Henry understood that, but it was becoming more and more clear that they couldn't leave it behind, they couldn't just forget it, lock it away forever. Whatever it was. Henry remembered Walter blaming himself after the monster in 208 attacked them. He wondered how biased that opinion was. </p>
<p>“Well, let's get the hell out of here, I hope that fridge isn't real, or in your real apartment. I think it violates some health codes.” Henry took a moment to understand, as it didn't quite hit as a joke initially but she just shook her head after a moment.</p>
<p>“Sorry, bad joke. I'm off my game, but I think I get to have a few duds here and there right.”</p>
<p>“Yeah...uhm..” he attempted to say something else but just sort of trailed off, Eileen didn't seem bothered by his inability to respond, he wondered why. </p>
<p>He was glad to leave the room behind. The whispers were quiet for now, he hoped they stayed that way.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. For What Its Worth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[There's something happening here. But what it is ain't exactly clear. There's a man with a gun over there, Telling me I got to beware//There's battle lines being drawn, Nobody's right if everybody's wrong//Paranoia strikes deep, Into your life it will creep, It starts when you're always afraid, Step out of line, the men come and take you away//You better stop<br/>Children, what's that sound? Everybody look, what's going down?]</p>
<p>Anyone can lie to you.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey hey hey! im back and here's chapter 20! huge milestone for me thank you so much for reading if you've stuck with me this long, i live for the feedback and the comments. <br/>this chapter is an important little milestone here featuring a line im stealing from my bf back when we were doing the RP that inspired this fic that ive wanted to use forever. seriously i am having a great time.<br/>i hope you're all doing well! thanks you for feedback and sticking with me &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Henry opened the door and squeezed out of the hole a light smattering of dust covering his terribly ruined sweater, Eileen right behind him, and nearly ran into Walter. The other man grasped his shoulders maybe to steady him or maybe just out of surprise. He held his hands there for too long, when Henry looked up at him they made eye contact for a worryingly long five or so seconds which might as well have been an eternity. Walter seemed to be trying to decode his expression, Henry wondered if he wanted to read his mind. Eventually he felt Eileen's hand between his shoulder blades steadying herself and Walter retracted his hands. </p>
<p>“Are you...alright?” Walter’s tilted head and soft voice questioned him, Henry didn't have it in him to lie.</p>
<p>“We found the keys to the door. And a...clue.” he answered, Walter’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by Cynthia who seemed to have just manifested a foot or so behind him.</p>
<p>“Thank god, this place smells like shit, among everything else.” she shook her head, “i mean no offence i guess but christ.” </p>
<p>“Yeah...it's fine. It's not really my house.” Henry shrugged and she sighed like she wanted to make some comment about it but couldn't really justify said comment or was possibly too tired to care. </p>
<p>“Right. Something like that.” she shook her head, Walter looked like he didn't want to let it go, like he wanted to question them more, something in his eyes spoke to concern. Henry guessed he was glad he could sort of read Walter now, but the stories the man's expressions told him weren't things he wanted to hear. Eileen spoke up before he could continue.</p>
<p>“You said we had all the pieces right?” </p>
<p>Henry nodded and began pulling the various items out of his pockets, the lighter, red paper, and earring, Eileen obviously had Mr. Coffee, and Walter who seemed disappointed, still pulled out the slightly bloodied teacup. They all sort of looked over them curiously, Henry wondered if the poem really did allude to this, but was far happier they were all numbered instead of this place deciding to let them figure it out on their own. He wasn't prepared for more riddles. He glanced up only to be startled by how upset Cynthia looked.</p>
<p>“Where the hell did you get that?” she said rather tersely, angry looking but sort of unnerved still. </p>
<p>“Where, what do you mean?” Henry frowned, shaking his head a little as he couldn't understand why she was upset, or what she was even referring to. </p>
<p>“The earring. Where did you get it, and why do you have it.” she spoke partially through clenched teeth, pointing one of her slightly broken nails at him, Henry shifted on his feet and tried to answer. Eileen looked confused and Walter’s eyes were wide in surprise or perhaps fear. It was hard to tell. </p>
<p>“It was just..just on the floor, it's one of the clues or, pieces of the puzzle i-”</p>
<p>“Like hell it fucking was.” she snapped at him, getting angrier as he tried to explain.</p>
<p>“But it's true..” </p>
<p>“Wait, Miss, listen-” Walter interrupted before she said anything else, hands raised in a defensive gesture, her glare made him flinch a little but he continued, “whatever it means to you i understand you might be upset but for what it's worth, that earring isn't the real one, it's something this world just...created to-”</p>
<p>“Again with this shit, i'm getting tired of it.” she shook her head and scowled and Henry glanced over at the stuffed animal Eileen’s hand, he realized he had a very easy way to stop this conversation. He really didn't want to, it might jeopardize him in some way, his privacy, but he knew he should try to say something. He sure didn't have the energy to deal with an actual argument. </p>
<p>“He's right. I promise, i..” he took a deep breath while Cynthia crossed her arms, clearly while she waited for him to prove it to her, “there was, that toy there, i recognize it from...when i was a kid. But it can't be true, i-i mean it can't be the same toy. That toy was...it was destroyed and lost forever, years ago. It can't be the same toy, and it's part of the same puzzle as your earring.” </p>
<p>Cynthia sighed heavily and thought about it awhile, she had obviously put together what he was implying, Eileen gently petted the top of the dolls head and there was something in her expression he couldn't quite place, it was a long time until anyone said anything else. </p>
<p>“Okay. well maybe you have a point.” Cynthia sighed and rubbed her forehead, turning her back to the other three, “but you can't deny this is insane, and i have no reason to believe any of this shit.” </p>
<p>“I mean, I can't say that isn't fair, but...i'm willing to believe Walter in this case.” Eileen piped up, Cynthia seemed to consider this, glancing at Walter and scrutinizing him. Her shaken head seemed to be akin to the closing of a casket.</p>
<p>“That's your choice. I've seen enough to know better. But for now, there's no reason to split up.” and with that she strode off into the living room, leaving them behind. Henry wondered what that earring must have meant to her to be so hostile about it, not that he blamed her in any capacity, but even still. She seemed temperamental. He wondered what Eileen assumed about him and the toy. </p>
<p>“Fuck.” she just shook her head and followed the other woman out into the living room, leaving Henry, who was putting the items back in his pocket, and Walter who was just staring ahead until he sighed deeply.</p>
<p>“They don't believe me, do they.” He said softly, Henry wondered how there could be any question about that.</p>
<p>“No they don't.”</p>
<p>“Sounds about right.” he murmured and Henry could only follow him, he really wished he didn't feel bad for him. The constant sliding scale was irritating, confusing, Henry preferred the black and white to this greyness. Morality was so aggravating. </p>
<p>They found the two women by the door, both of them looking mildly uncomfortable, he guessed they all felt this strange sort of tension in the room, it was nearly unbearable. Henry took the keys and made his way to the door, and grasped the first padlock he could, feeling everyone's eyes on him while he did so, why did everyone always have to stare? His hands fumbled but he managed to unlock one of them, dropping the heavy lock onto the carpet with a dull empty thud. He reached for the next, and the next, there were about six of them in total and when Henry had unclasped all of them, the chains slipped through the pegs they'd been wrapped around like wet noodles through a fork, sliding to the floor easily, Henry could practically feel everyone holding their breath as he reached for the doorknob. </p>
<p>It slid open smoothly, the signature creak he'd grown accustomed to in two years greeted him and he felt the relief wash over him. </p>
<p>“Oh thank god…” Eileen sighed and Cynthia’s tenseness and grip on her bat loosened somewhat. Walter’s expression didn't change much, but he seemed at least neutral, slightly less sad at the least. </p>
<p>“Well, great. Certainly, but what exactly do we do now? Are we still going to go look for that old man?”</p>
<p>“Well, he’ll probably be around where the puzzle is, the gate leads to his room. It...must mean something.” Walter said, side eyeing Cynthia a little. She didn't really react. </p>
<p>“It's downstairs. I don't know if he’ll be there. But we should look anyways. There's not really many rooms we haven't been in left.” Henry pointed out, glancing at the chains on the floor and deciding it might be useful, there wasn't much else that he could attempt to use as a weapon unless he was going to start throwing old records at any monsters in the halls. The choice was clear even if one of them would've been funnier, or at least a better use for the Paul Mccarntey records than actually listening to them. He picked up the chain and threw it over his shoulder, turning to look at the group of people that very certainly didn't like each other that much, but were stuck together for the time being. </p>
<p>“Good point. It's definitely better to stick together, i mean, at least better to be among friends right?” Eileen offered, still optimistic. Cynthia looked sort of baffled and unimpressed with her insistence on friendship, Walter just looked confused, and Henry frowned. Eileen clearly noticed the reactions and shrugged slightly glancing at the floor with an eye roll.</p>
<p>“Well fine we don't have to be friends i guess, damn. We shouldnt split up at least, we can definitely take out any monsters a lot easier this way.”</p>
<p>“Well hopefully we won't have to deal with any.” Walter concurred. </p>
<p>I'll agree to that. Well big guy are you gonna lead us to your landlord?” Cynthia glanced at Henry who squared his shoulders and nodded. Turning on his heel and striding off into the hallway, trying to walk with something like confidence. </p>
<p>None of them were very confident when they began to walk down the halls while the bloodied nasty walls rotted and pulsated around them however, like it was breathing. Henry could swear he heard singing, a soft voice, he couldn't identify the song but he could feel the melancholy in the tune. It felt sort of familiar though. Like he was supposed to remember it, but the dark cobwebs of his memories provided nothing helpful. He had no idea if the other three could hear it, they didn't say anything about it.  </p>
<p>They managed to get away from the triad of doors on the third floor, nothing seemed out of the ordinary at least as far as the nightmare world went. Henry wondered if he was becoming desensitized to this, upon entering the stairwell he realized that whatever he was desensitized to it sure wasn't the smell. It wasn't as bad as the fridge, more clearly identifiable as rotting meat and blood, but it did make him slightly nauseous. When he glanced back he did notice that everyone else clearly was disgusted. Walters furrowed brow, Eileen's sour expression and Cynthia's scowl had returned. At least this was consistent. </p>
<p>Nobody said anything as they headed down the stairs, they were slightly wet and slick, the woman who’d been hanging from the ceiling before was gone now, and Henry wondered what happened to her, and why things kept shifting and changing all the time. He guessed he didn't want to look at her anymore, but he also had to wonder if she'd gotten up somehow. He could imagine her shambling along and crying again. He hoped he was being paranoid, but he knew there was something about this world that made that almost possible. He gripped the chain tighter.</p>
<p>When they reached the bottom floor Henry paused for a moment, certain he’d heard something, he wasn't sure what it was exactly, a low snarling maybe, he felt his heart start to race as he recognized it as the dogs, he grabbed the chain and looked around, trying to find the source of the sounds. Nothing popped up at him, nothing changed, his heart thudded in his chest, his hands clenching the chain tightly, knuckles pale. </p>
<p>A scream from behind him and he turned around to find the group staring at a monster that held onto Eileen's arm. It was a mound of flesh, strange appendages twisting outward, it's body was shaped almost like a horse, his head was just a long mouth, teeth were tall and threatening and seemed to fill it's mouth more than it could handle, no eyes, it's gold fur was patchy and rotting, it's feet looked like fleshy rocks full of tumors, it made a sound half way between a whinny and a scream, as it's strange arms wrapped themselves around Eileen’s and she kicked at it with a shouted “get off!”. Henry jerked into action only for Cynthia to get there first, swinging her bat so hard that when she made contact with the monster there was a sickening crack and the things neck snapped in such an awkward angle it should've been dead. It let go of Eileen’s arm and Henry made it over to her, grabbing her other arm and putting himself between her and the monster.</p>
<p>“Piss off.” Cynthia scowled at the monster when she readied herself to swing again, Henry readied the chain figuring he could use it as a whip and when she smacked the monster again, he thrust the chain forward, lashing at it again before it could even think of what to do. A howl from the monster and it's huge tumors filled fists swung at Henry’s face and missed. He guessed it was a symptom of having no eyes. A thirst smack from Cynthia and it's strange head cracked open against the rusted floor, blood pooling into the old ruined wood. </p>
<p>“Jesus fuck, what was that…” Cynthia huffed, her breathing heavy but she didn't look too frazzled, until Henry glanced at her eyes and he couldn't help but notice something like panic. She composed herself immediately, walking over to Eileen and setting her hand on her shoulder. Walter was already behind her and looking concerned, she was clearly shaken up by this, Henry wondered if she had just reached a breaking point, or if this was personal to her. </p>
<p>“I dunno…” Eileen stared at the body on the floor, clutching the doll close. Henry had a brief feeling of weird possessiveness that he pushed to the side. </p>
<p>“We should go, i don't know if…”</p>
<p>Before he could say much else the sounds of off putting screaming warbled in from upstairs, three more of the strange horses sniffed and bared their teeth, looking for the group, sniffing the air, looking for blood. Henry realized they could try and fight them, but only him and Cynthia had a weapon, and with three of them, nobody wanted to fight more. Henry grabbed Eileen’s arm and she grabbed his back, the monsters charged down the stairs, Henry who was now operating solely on instinct, dragging Eileen over to the double doors. He forced his shoulder into it wrenching it open and ignoring the pain in his body, he glanced behind him to find Cynthia grabbing Walter and trying to pull him away from attempting to punch a monster that was charging him. Henry pushed Eileen into the hallway as they eventually turned and ran away from the monster.</p>
<p>They managed their way into the first floor hallway, Walter and Henry forcing the door closed and Henry in a haze locking it. Loud banging could be heard and Henry guessed the horses didn't know how to use the knob, as horses tended to. They all stood there for a solid minute, breathing heavily, Cynthia walked over and wrapped her arms around Eileen’s shoulders. Henry and Walter just sort of stood there, Henry admiring silently that Cynthia was so composed despite everything, and Walter looking slightly forlorn, as well as tired. </p>
<p>“You think those things can use doors…'' Eileen asked after a moment of calming herself down, she still looked scared shitless and her voice was smaller, more nervous, besides that she seemed alright. </p>
<p>“I don't think they have hands?” Walter offered as helpful as he could, Cynthia nodded with half an eyeroll. </p>
<p>“He's probably right. We’ll be alright, i promise.” Cynthia rubbed her shoulders and EIleen nodded, “we ended up where we meant to at least, that's a good thing. I think.” </p>
<p>It seemed to be agreed, Henry couldn't hear the horses anymore, he hoped they had gotten bored. He turned his attention to the barrier, one that hadn't changed since they'd last been here despite so much else having shifted and twisted contorting in on itself, a constant was a relief when it felt like the world couldn't handle whatever force was making it so indecisive. </p>
<p>The metal gate that separated them from the rest of the room still seemed intimidating somehow, each of the little shadow boxes were decorated in their time away, he guessed it was supposed to tell them where to put each of the objects. The first was tile smeared with blood and a small plate, the second was overgrown with plants and weeds with half a cigarette in the center of it, the third in the bottom left corner contained a mannequins hand with it's fingers almost touching surrounded by bottles of perfume and loose coins with pink satin cushioning the box, in the bottom right was a box with the same wallpaper as Henry's apartment with small black reels of what Henry assumed was ink for a typewriter, and in the center of the gate a box contained a small soft purple blanket nested in the box with familiar wallpaper. All four of them stared at it, as if sizing it up. </p>
<p>“Alright, lets see if this door will actually open.” Eileen set her hands on her hips as if trying to stop herself from thinking too deeply about what was happening, she had pushed the pain to the back of her mind, but Henry could see something dark in her eyes. It didn't suit her. </p>
<p>Henry took the items out of his pocket, and they all gathered them together to try and figure out where to put them, Walter being as tall as he was and him and Henry both knowing whos shadow box that must be, prompted him to set the teacup on the little plate, him immediately jerking his hand away as a set of heavy metal bars slammed down and closing off the shadowbox again. </p>
<p>“Hope that one was right.” Cynthia commented, she had her hand still set on Eileen’s shoulder. Walter just shook his head, Henry looked over the items he had, and mostly though process of elimination he decided to set the lighter in the box with the plants, the earring in the mannequins fingers, and the paper on top of the ink with the black reels, each of the boxes slamming shut after he set the right item inside. Eileen had the last item, and she held it, looking it over.</p>
<p>“Guess you're the last one huh buddy.” she said quickly, halfway to herself and halfway to Mr. Coffee, and Henry tried desperately to ignore the growing jealous aggravation in his chest as he watched her gently go to set it in the center box. </p>
<p>With the clanking metal, He guessed it was a good thing she had done it and not him. Still he felt like his old friend had been ripped away from him again, and he still was not allowed to say goodbye. </p>
<p>There was a pause, and then suddenly the inside of every single box lit aflame with the passion of gasoline to a spark, sparkling violence, the sudden heat made the group of them step away, except Walter who stood and stared almost deliberately, the golden glow of the burst of flame lit him up in something halfway angelic. There was a terrifying beauty to this, his shadow and silhouette more reminiscent of a monster than a man. The flame was brief, but the outline would be burned in Henry’s memory for a reason that escaped him, for a time too long to be justified. </p>
<p>Henry guessed that was how things always ended, unexpectedly, violently, and without much more left to do than to look at the ruins of something you loved, and wonder why you expected anything different. </p>
<p>At least this time, grateful numbness was his punishment for caring. He could deal with that later. Or never. Hopefully never. </p>
<p>The gates slowly creaked open, allowing access to the rest of the hallway, a loud clock chimed once from somewhere in the bowels of the building itself, Henry and Walter flinched but the women with them didn't react, besides Eileen gently touching Walter's arm and frowning. There was nothing said aloud however. </p>
<p>“Exciting.” Cynthia shook her head, her expression was something like worried and pained, “you better hope to god that wasn't the real one like you said.” she turned to Walter who glanced at her briefly and then ahead again.</p>
<p>“I'm certain of it.” she didn't seem to believe him, but he just nodded again. He guessed there was nothing more to say about it, but Henry wondered if there was some revelation he found in those flames. </p>
<p>With that they managed to get closer, seeing the crooked “Superintendent” sign right next to the door, Henry swore he'd seen Frank fix it before but he guessed he was always unsuccessful, and the procession came to a halt, the strange walls wiggled and squirmed around them, and there was this feeling foreboding, as if the door itself didn't want them to go inside, </p>
<p>Right as Henry decided he might as well bite the bullet and try and knock, figuring nobody else was going to and really hating his role as the guy who leads the way, the door opened, and there in the doorway stood the man of the hour. Frank leaned against the door in a navy blue sweater, hunched as he often was and looking completely nonplussed. He seemed more surprised to see the four of them at his door than to the viscera along the walls. He didn't even comment on it, his eyes glazed over it like it was normal. Henry felt somewhat unnerved by looking at his bright, empty green eyes, and seeing no recognition of the truth of their situation. The lights were on and bright, but whoever was home was sleeping too soundly to be awoken. </p>
<p>“Hey there Henry, what brings you over here?” Frank said, just like he might have any other day, and suddenly Henry had no idea how to respond, how was he supposed to answer that, Frank didn't seem to be joking. </p>
<p>“Are..are you okay?” he asked, and he watched Frank tilt his head slightly as if confused.</p>
<p>“What do you mean Henry? Course i am, i'm not dead yet am i?”</p>
<p>“But..the walls, all the monsters?”</p>
<p>“Monsters? Aw c'mon Henry, you know monsters aren't real. You feelin okay?” Frank waved his hand dismissively, and Henry glanced over at the other three begging for some help here. Something about how Frank spoke was off, and he wasn't sure why. Eileen spoke up. </p>
<p>“Mr. Sunderland, you can see the...well everything going on right? The walls, those bars? <em>i've</em> seen monsters around, so have these two, and no i don't wanna go back to show you but look around?” she sounded halfway pleading, “we were just worried since we've gotten pretty beaten up…”</p>
<p>“Well, whatever you say, i'm perfectly fine.” Frank shook his head and shrugged, he seemed like he didn't believe them, like he couldn't see what was being explained.</p>
<p>“Right. Well you look fine. So i guess that's good news.” Cynthia sighed annoyed, Frank seemed to just realize she was here. He frowned briefly but then moved on. </p>
<p>“Look, I don't mind jokes now and again but roundin up all your friends for a prank is a bit much, it's not even a very good one, tryin to confuse an old man aint nice y'know.“ Frank set his hands on his hips with a tone of jest, and Henry was more frustrated than if he’d just outright denied everything.</p>
<p>“Mr. Sunderland please just...tell us what you see around you, just...for a moment…” Walter’s small, painfully worried voice spoke up. </p>
<p>“Humor us would you?” Eileen added, and Frank paused, Henry caught something in his gaze, something like insincerity. Like he was looking for an answer to their questionioning, and Henry knew very well that there was no reason for this to be the case if he was telling the truth. He finally understood why he was so off, like he had rehearsed his confusion, the lies he constructed for no discernible reason, an actor, and he wasn't even a particularly great one.</p>
<p>“Well, i see the walls, and the carpet, some trash i'm gonna take out when my back stops bein so damn sore,if you mean how dirty it is you don't need to nag me about it i will get someone in to fix it up and clean it, just gotta play phone tag with the bastards, its like they don't want the money with the way they run around it, and yeah the walls could use a coat of paint or some cleanin, but it's not like we’re livin in the ritz ya gotta cut me some slack, i guess that's a hotel though, anyways..” Frank rambled on, but now that Henry had caught onto his little game, it seemed far more disingenuous than ever. </p>
<p>“You really don't see anything out of the ordinary?” Walter frowned, his eyes sad, and confused. </p>
<p>“Nope. nothing different from yesterday, just your little posse here. Y'know Henry you should get that checked out, bleedin a bit.” Frank shook his head and then gestured to his arms, Henry frowned, he was deflecting from the conversation.</p>
<p>“I don't believe you.” he stated, surprising even himself, and everyone else in the hallway, he wasn't particularly loud, but they all heard him as evidenced by the dead silence. Frank’s expression fell a little, and then his facade was put back up.</p>
<p>“Why's that Henry, ain't no reason, I wouldn't lie to ya." Frank lied, easily. Everyone stared at him and Henry felt that nervous sort of pit in his stomach, an inevitable sense that he was stupid or making shit up or crazy, but he was too fed up to care, he wanted some answers, and He didn't like liars.</p>
<p>"There's no way you don't see this. You...you wouldn't be here. Everyone else can see it, me, Walter, Eileen Cynthia, Mr. Braintree, Jasper, it wouldn't make sense if you're the only person here that can't. So...I don't believe you." He wasn't able to keep the confidence the whole time he spoke, but he continued anyways, he saw Eileen frown when he mentioned Richard, but she didn't interrupt. Frank looked displeased, but he fixed his expression quickly, to something that more closely resembled confusion and hurt.</p>
<p>"I've never lied to you before. Why would I? I wish I knew what you were talking about Henry, but I don't, I just don't see nothin. Honest." Frank shrugged helplessly, he knew exactly how to put on his little act, all the hand gestures, the facial expressions, the tone of voice, Henry knew a mask when he saw one, and this was a damn good one forged in decades of lies, years of putting on similar acts. Ignorance, earnestness, a sort of helplessness, it was masterful. Henry wondered how he didn't notice it before. He opened his mouth to speak again but felt a hand on his shoulder. </p>
<p>"Henry, I don't think he can see it. It's Not worthwhile to argue about." Walter shook his head when Henry went to protest. Looking at the two women for some sort of support he found they appeared to agree with Walter. Cynthia just looked tired and annoyed with all of this and Eileen slightly worried and confused.</p>
<p>"He doesn't know anything Henry." Eileen shook her head and he couldn't help but inwardly deflate a little. They all bought it. </p>
<p>Or maybe he was crazy, mean, neurotic and making things up. Paranoid and looking to blame anyone he could, and the poor aging superintendent just happened to be his target for seemingly no discernible reason other than he was convenient and Henry already had negative feelings about him at times. Not even often, just once or twice, and he decided to launch vitriol at this poor old man. </p>
<p>"Sorry…" it was far too quiet but Walter's light tap on his shoulder before drawing his hand away indicated it had been heard. Henry glanced over at Frank again only to notice a brief flash of triumph, and relief, while the other three weren't looking, righting his expression to that of something more pitiable. And Henry knew he could say nothing without sounding insane and cruel, but there was a quiet sort of vindication that he was right, and a cruel sort of anger that he couldn't say anything. He hoped the brief but targeted eye contact he made conveyed this well. That old saying he had heard shouted at him time and time again, you can't bullshit a bullshitter.  </p>
<p>"No hard feelins, I'm Just a little worried about what's knockin around in your skull there Henry. You're such a quiet thing i'd hardly know you were there if you weren't so big. Anyways, is there somethin I can do to help you kids? I don't think encouraging delusions is great but whatever might make you feel better i'm Willin to try. Course, I got business to attend to so…" there was a pause, Henry had nothing more to say to him, it took a moment for Walter who was clearly pondering this deeply to respond. </p>
<p>"Would it be alright if we just...took a look around your room, nothing we won't dig into anything I promise, you could stay and watch of course i-i just want to be sure of something. That's all." He wrung his hands while Frank crossed his arms and rubbed his chin slightly. </p>
<p>"Well sure, why not, it won't hurt nothin, most've you have been in there anyway. Just stay outta the closet, and don't touch the box on the mantle. That's all I ask. I'll know if you've touched either." He nodded lightly, Eileen looked cautiously surprised.</p>
<p>"You're not staying with us?"</p>
<p>"Nah, no reason to, I trust you'll listen right. Besides like I said, I got business to attend to. You kids knock yourselves out." He waved it away casually and now Cynthia, who had mostly appeared disinterested or with a vaguely sour expression at Henry, now seemed suspicious. </p>
<p>"What kind of business could be so urgent, you don't seem to be in that much of a hurry."</p>
<p>"Hey, I don't got nothin to hide, but I still got private matters to attend to, that's all." Frank deflected, still casual and lighthearted. Too much so in all honesty. </p>
<p>"Well, if you're sure…." Walter paused, he seemed a bit weary himself, "Thank you, it means alot, it is important."</p>
<p>"I'm sure it is." Frank chuckled dismissively. "I better get going. Don't get into any trouble now, and uh, lock the door behind ya when you leave alright?" He had stepped partially out of the way of the door and a bit down the hall before stopping. </p>
<p>“Y'know Walter, i'm sure nobody ever told you, and I was just thinking about it earlier...” Frank turned to look the other man square in the eye, something changed in his expression, knowledge, the removing of a veil as he stared Walter down like a man with a gun, zeroing in. He saw nothing, nobody else. </p>
<p>“You look just like your mother.”</p>
<p>The point blank gunshot of that statement was too vague to make sense to three of the five of them, but the resulting wound was visible and obvious regardless. Walter looked like somebody he loved had stabbed him and chided him for trusting them, if Henry wasn't mistaken there were tears there. Frank looked downright malicious, like he took a sort of glee from this, and then before anyone could happen to ask him what that was supposed to mean, he turned on his heel and left. He was whistling a tune as he did so. A whistle that was replied to by some kind of echo in the halls, a voice sung along that Henry realized was Frank’s. </p>
<p>
  <em>I left my home in Georgia, Headed for the Frisco Bay. 'Cause I've had nothin' to live for, It look like nothin's gonna come my way. So I'm just gon' sittin' on the dock of the bay, Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh, I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time</em>
</p>
<p>“Walter?” Eileen’s voice cut through the song that had silenced everyone, and Henry saw the other man's face neutralize into something scary, in that peaceful empty smile, pain in his eyes that he was clearly trying to remove. Drown it in apathy. </p>
<p>“The ignorant are always the most maliciously cruel. You can't expect anything different from people.” Walter muttered, his voice betrayed only light emotion, it was unnerving all the same. </p>
<p>“Are you okay?”</p>
<p>“He's left the door open for us. I believe the answers will be here.” Walter didn't answer Eileen, he simply gestured to Frank's room and opened the door, walking inside without much more fanfare. Cynthia looked discomforted, her bat held at her side with pale knuckled fists. Eileen's concerned expression was heavy and confused, she looked to Henry but all he could do was shrug and follow the other man inside the room. He had so many questions, so many clues about Walter, the connection popped up in his mind, and Henry wished he had time to sit and think about it, to connect the dots. But he wasn't about to explain this to Eileen, it seemed private. </p>
<p>He felt close to a revelation about Walter, but there were several things missing. Puzzle pieces that were far more complex than a riddle tying inanimate objects together, people were far more complex than just notes and symbols. Regardless something was downright terrifying about how Frank looked at him and pinpointed exactly what would shut him down. There was something there.</p>
<p>It seemed to revolve around a mother figure. Henry wondered which one of them was lying. </p>
<p>As he entered a room he had been inside a few dozen times, he noted several changes he guessed Frank had no part in, whether he could see it or not. The once soft olive colored walls were now slathered in rust and blood, Frank’s kitchen had been barred off with more rusted bars, ones so badly eroded Henry figured he or Walter could have broken them off with enough effort, the old carpet had been replaced with more eroded tile. His table and chairs were unchanged, as was his desk containing all his miscellaneous documents he likely should've oranagized, the strange monitors that  were set up to record god knew what, possibly the parking lot and the basement though Henry never saw it while it was turned on was unchanged. On his hutch a small red box that appeared to be a jewelry box or something similar was set there, but chains so thickly tied around it that it seemed nearly impossible to unravel and unlock stopped them from examining it. Henry assumed that what Frank was talking about when asking them not to touch it, not that there was any reason to do so. Walter stood at the window and stared outward at nothing. Henry felt himself drawn to the box, but decided to avoid and ignore that feeling. He didn't actually want to go anywhere near it. </p>
<p>“Hm. you're super needs to hire somebody to clean some of this shit, “ Cynthia grimaced at the sight around her, clearly trying to make some sort of a joke about the situation. Henry figured she was uncomfortable and honestly couldn't blame her. </p>
<p>“There doesn't seem to be anything different here. well , besides those chains…” Eileen stared at the box full of paper on the desk and then around at Frank’s keys but nothing seemed to jump out at her. Henry had to agree, but Walter slightly snapped out of what he was doing and turned around, staring right through all of them with his vague smile.</p>
<p>“There might be something more in the bedroom. Or some other part of the apartment…”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry but i don't feel like digging around an old man's house, or anyone's house for that matter.” Cynthia frowned at him, Walter;s glance settled on her and through her.</p>
<p>"It's not real. He can't see it himself, he doesn't see all of this, but it's not real. This isn't his home so everything we do here...has no real consequence. Not to the real world. If he's as ignorant as he seems then he'll have nothing in particular to hide here." Walter said slowly, as though he were trying to remember or having trouble explaining himself. </p>
<p>"How can you be sure?" </p>
<p>"Nothing is certain. But I believe it, I've seen this sort of thing before.  A few times even, it never affects the real world. He’ll never know.” Walter shook his head lightly and angled himself towards the hallway, as if he wasn't going to listen to anymore arguments about it, frankly there wasn't much anyone could do to stop him regardless. He was far too big to argue with. </p>
<p>“Well that's fine but if we don't see something soon we should leave and try to find him again, I know he said he can't see anything but that doesn't mean something can't attack him. I know he's not everybody's favorite,” she started trying and failing not to glance at Henry, “but he's still just an old man, he could get hurt…”</p>
<p>“Okay.” Henry nodded, despite the fact that he knew better, still felt somewhat bad about his little scene in front of them, still he knew that even though Frank was lying, he was vulnerable. It didn't matter if he was a bit of a dick. </p>
<p>“If we must.” Walter sighed heavily, Henry could guess he wasn't Frank’s number one fan either, but didn't care to argue. Eileen seemed relatively relieved to have them agree. </p>
<p>With that they all meandered down the hallway, a place Henry was not actually familiar with, and found his bedroom door slightly ajar, Walter pushed it open  allowing for the four of them to file in after him and stare at what they saw.</p>
<p>“Oh...a hole.” Eileen said softly staring straight ahead, and indeed it was, another of the holes, the red painted symbols bright and clear, The hole in this room was something of a calling, a beckoning finger, come forward it asked, and it seemed like an invitation to come to bed and curl into the sheets, and fall asleep. For maybe an hour, or maybe forever, it was unclear and that vagueness was almost comforting. Henry had to tear his eyes away from it to register the rest of the room, a small twin sized bed shoved in the corner this bed was green as well, an actual computer set up over on the side of the room next to a bookshelf with it's screensaver displaying a twisting agonized face, the closet was slightly open and henry could see the sleeve of some heavy coat with some patch or something similar on the sleeve. Henry registered both the typically mundane bedroom, and the fact that Eileen had seen the hole.</p>
<p>“Huh...well you were right. There is a hole.” Cynthia shook her head baffled almost by this. </p>
<p>“You can see it...that's...not good.” Walter murmured staring straight at it, the emptiness in his eyes comforted Henry in the sense that Walter felt what he had while staring at the hole. Which wasn't nice, but it was helpful. Henry felt selfish for a brief second of self awareness, a bubble that was popped when EIleen spoke again.</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“because...because ...you don't need to know so much that you can see them, it means it's getting stronger, that people who aren't…”Walter closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself down. <br/>“Stronger?” Cynthia tilted her head. </p>
<p>“The powers of Silent Hill have seeped into places they never should have. At the very least, it's spread here. I'm hoping this is temporary, but the less you all know the better, it means you can't be hurt…” Walter explained turning and gesturing outwardly. Henry frowned, getting the sense that he wasn't being entirely truthful, but unlike Frank he wasn't certain. </p>
<p>“That's what they all say, but ignorance is fine by me, are we supposed to go through this hole then? I don't like all these damn portals.” Cynthia shook her head and shifted from one foot to the other. </p>
<p>“Yes. we should. We don't see them if we’re not supposed to go through them. I'm not sure where it will take us of course but…” </p>
<p>“What about Mr. Sunderland?” Eileen gestured behind her, “Should we try and bring him with us?” </p>
<p>“...he’ll be fine.” Walter assured her, though with him turning his back again, Henry could see his expression sour before he fixed it again, it wasn't exactly convincing. Not that Walter didn't believe he would be fine, but rather he didn't care one way or the other.</p>
<p>“I don't think we could convince him to come with us even if we found him again.” Cynthia pointed out and crossed her arms.</p>
<p>“....maybe you're right...i dunno that i trust that we should do this though. I am tired of these holes…” Eileen shook her head and sighed. </p>
<p>“It's the only way forward.” Henry whispered, and with that he walked forward and sighed, “i guess it's that or...stay here. And i don't want to stay here anymore.”</p>
<p>With that Henry pushed thoughts out of his mind, all of his doubts, all of his misgivings, he had this feeling that something better would come of this exit, regardless he wanted out of these apartments, and he knew they had reached the end of this labyrinth. There was nothing more to do here. He crouched and began to crawl through the hole again. He wondered if they would follow him into the darkness, but he had a hard time caring. </p>
<p>And for the time, whatever happened afterwards, that soft nothingness enveloped him. Nothing, everything, and something all at once. </p>
<p>He heard the ticking of a clock in the distance. One loud sound, and then two more following, and then a now familiar whispering in his ear.</p>
<p>
  <em>you've seen the beginning. Rest now. Prepare. I have so much more to show you.</em>
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